


Two Sides of the same Coin

by HoneyPiePuzzle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, But he's trying, Chris is a good friend, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Maccachin spelled as Maccachin, Miscommunication, Narrator is a Romantic at Heart, Narrator totally adores Chris, POV Victor Nikiforov, Romance, Victor is not okay, Victor is pants at emotional Situations, Victor spelled as Victor, Victor-centered, Yuuko ships it, Yuuri is not okay, alternate falling for each other, and a drama queen, awesome in slacks, not totally alternate though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 49,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyPiePuzzle/pseuds/HoneyPiePuzzle
Summary: Victor is Yuuri’s new coach, and since he’s seen him dance at the banquet and perform his own routine on video he’s on a mission. Between trying to reconcile Yuuri’s two different sides, finding out what it is that Yuuri is hiding from him and handling the burgeoning feelings he has for the man, Victor tries to come up with a program for Yuuri’s skating future and a good plan for his own. Because, seriously, has the ice he’s skated on most of his life ever felt just that lonely?In shorter words: Victor has sort of an identity crisis, flees to Japan, and now you can read what would have happened had Yurio NOT followed him there.





	1. Reconciling Eros

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a wedding present for my dearest friend Kisa who's introduced me to Yuuri and Victor, and when I started writing this story I was estimating it to be roughly 12k words. Well, needless to say it got a bit out of hand. 
> 
> I’ve changed the original plot according to my needs and the story I wanted to tell but it was fun to still use some comments and lines from the original series plot.
> 
> This is my first foray into the fandom and I’d be so happy to receive kudos and comments. Please feel free to go wild because to me writing this fic was a bit like going wild, since it’s been some kind of an experiment and just so out of my usual OTP. But we can safely assume that while I do have an OTP (one true pairing) that I’ve been nursing for years now, Victuuri has rapidly become my OTP (other true pairing) ;) 
> 
> Well, new love is fun love.
> 
> I don’t have a beta at the moment but I am doing my best. Since I am obviously not perfect please point out grave mistakes to me.
> 
> Now please go ahead and enjoy!

**Two Sides of the same Coin**  


It comes to Victor as he sits on a low plastic stool in the bath and upends a bucket of lukewarm water onto his soap-lathered body: Something has changed when he came to Japan. He is unable to put a finger on it but something definitely has. And yet he feels comfortable. Calm. 

He is… happy. 

But isn’t that a weird thought? To assume that a gold winning athlete at the prime of his skills, cheered at by thousands of devoted fans and looked up to by multiple younger skater who aspire to be like him, to be where he is, could be anything but?

But here he is, in a small coastal town in the south of Japan, lathering shampoo into his silver hair while, all around him, other men clean themselves in unhurried, near reverent movements born of thousands of Onsen visits before they take their towels and make their way outside into the hot springs. Content as he hasn’t been in ages, but maybe taking himself off to a widely unknown and far away town just does that to you. 

And take himself off Victor did. 

Out of St. Petersburg where he’s never had time to listen to the seagulls at the ocean, where he’s spent most of his life at the ice rink, drilling his body into flexibility, jumps and grace. Defying gravity and heartache and pain and loneliness only to wake up as a five times gold medal winner of the Grand Prix Final in Figure Skating. Restlessly chasing the gold and rising to the challenge every season. 

A challenge whose exhilaration has waned over the years, dulled, turned steel grey under a million lights in the ice arena. He’s 27 now, which is old for a skater and he can proudly say there isn’t much he hasn’t achieved at this point in his career. Still, there comes a time for every skater where they have to face the end of their career and decide what to do with the 40-odd years that are the rest of their life.

Victor scrubs a hand over his face to clear it from suds and water, so his vision doesn’t get blurry from the rice bran they use around here to manufacture into slightly slippery bars of soap. In the mirror in front of him he sees an older man pass him, hips scantily clad in a small white towel that barely hides wan skin and fading muscles. A small boy bounds across the area, catches up to him and the old man gives him a smile and takes his hand while they make their way outside and into the hot water of the Onsen. 

Victor’s eyes follow them and in his heart the ease is spreading. It’s not so much the fact that he’s taken himself out of the way of paparazzi, fans and expectations alike. Even though this is a very, very nice side effect. It’s much more the easy complacency that comes with a new task to be fulfilled while he’s revelling in a lifetime’s worth of bathing tradition, the smell of incense burning, hot mineralized water and probably the best non-Russian food he’s ever had. He’s already gained three and a half pounds in two weeks, but checking his body in the mirror tells him it’s all still within range.

Just as he refills the bucket to douse himself in another wave of lukewarm water the door to the changing area opens and Yuuri enters the room, chest and legs bare, movements slow and face wan with exhaustion. 

As Yuuri steps closer, rucking up his towel with one hand to sneakily hide the little paunch he’s gained after the last Grand Prix Final and mussing his tousled hair with the other, Victor can only be speechless. How is it that the Japanese are always so tight-up, so body-shy, but at the same time luxuriate around the Onsen without so much as a stich on them? If at all they are clad in only small towels around their hips while cleaning themselves comfortably in front of others, only to immerge into the hot water afterwards and soak for ages. The very picture of contradiction. Yuuri is the model Japanese in that fashion and Victor can only be totally and completely baffled about it.

On the other hand, it’s not like Yuuri has a reason to be particularly body-shy. Paunch notwithstanding. However, Victor has learned the first evening that sitting naked next to each other in an Onsen doesn’t also entail less distance or a sense of walls coming down outside of it. 

With a soundless sigh Yuuri trudges over to the free stool next to Victor, towel helplessly askew around his hips and it seems to take all his remaining coordination to sink down and sit properly, and not just keel over into the mirror. Victor watches him reach for the soap and start to clean his sweat slicked skin, and another wave of contentment washes over him. 

This is what he came to Japan for, to this small town at the end of the world. This dark haired, round eyed man, who he’s seen skate his routine in a semi-twilit ice rink, in slacks and with a sad reverence on his face that has cut Victor deeply, almost painfully. This man that is nothing like Victor has expected in any way, shape or form. Who actually isn’t the outgoing, sensual dancer that has swept Victor off his feet at last season’s banquet and made him feel so incredibly alive. This man that ever since Victor stepped out of the plane and into the door of Yu-topia Hot Springs he feels a fierce protectiveness about that, every time it surges through him, surprises the hell out of him. 

And doesn’t he like to surprise and be surprised!

Being Russian and being disciplined with baths in a very cold and stormy Baltic Sea to bully his body into the sort of submission it needs to stand long days at the ice rink, Victor is far from being body-shy. He knows he is a beautiful man by multiple standards and he truly likes to flirt and get what he wants. People notice the moment he enters a room and start looking, and over the years Yakov has been able to smoothen out the edges of his brash and impulsive behaviour, allowing him to easily find his way through all the compulsive events and activities that come with being a world renowned skater with a gold medal at five consecutive World Championships and two World Records under his belt. 

In comparison Yuuri is shy and awkward, almost inapt when it comes to socialising and bonding. Victor has observed it the last season where Yuuri had scrambled through his routine at the Grand Prix Final, flubbed the majority of his jumps and came in last. At the banquet after the medal ceremony he’d looked translucent and small, had talked to no-one but his coach and slinked out of side the moment it was acceptable. 

Only to claim centre stage half an hour later, stinking drunk and pole dance competing with Chris. Victor still isn’t sure who’s actually won that particular dance off, how deep this other enticing personality of Yuuri is buried within him and whether he can charm it into making another appearance. However, _god_ , Yuuri for sure is _one hell_ of a dancer, impressively flexible, and the way he looks in tight black boxer briefs, out of nowhere, makes Victor’s heart stutter and face heat up. 

But of course right now that’s neither here nor there!

It isn’t like Victor hasn’t seen many a skater succumb to nerves and let the pressure of fans, media and their own expectations get to them and crumble to dust on the unforgiving ice. Because he has. Plenty. But what he has never seen is a skater that practically destroys his own routine only to skate a high-difficulty one with a heart full of love and a face full of sadness only a little time afterwards. 

Of course the video had gone viral. 

What was so unexpected about all that was the way it has touched Victor’s heart, made him call a travel agency and fly out to Fukuoka the next day.

It’s unusual for him to take so much interest in another person, especially one that is in fact a competitor and therefore should be gauged with care and a critical eye. One that, after witnessing both the pole dance competition _and_ the raw and emotional skating on the empty ice and having yet to reconcile both personalities, he was actually quite nervous to meet again in person. Only to be in for a massive surprise.

“Yuuri,” Victor says and Yuuri raises a tired eyebrow towards him in the mirror. “That was good practise today. Your quad toe loop has good potential, you should be able to land it perfectly soon.” The praise comes easily and next to Victor Yuuri lights up and gives him a small but happy smile, before he averts his gaze and grabs the rice bran soap. 

Out of the corner of his eyes Victor observes Yuuri soap himself, wash his hair and scrub at a small smudge of wax he has smeared onto the side of his forehead when they’d tended to their respective skates earlier. However, the smudge doesn’t come of and Yuuri scrubs harder, the skin around his temple blossoming into a vivid pink. 

“You want me to…” Victor asks, half-teasing, and reaches out a washcloth to brush off the wax only to see Yuuri tense abruptly and shake his head vigorously the next moment. 

“No, I’m… I can do that myself…”

Blushing furiously Yuuri reaches for a small algae sponge and starts scrubbing.

“Sorry,” Yuuri whispers a second later and Victor winks at him, trying not to be too offended. After all, they are sitting the cleaning area of an Onsen, they are both naked under a very small towel each but, sadly, Victor has already sort of established that Yuuri’s main personality apparently isn’t that of the shameless and tactile dancer.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” he answers and is pleasantly charmed by Yuuri’s shy half-smile.

They finish cleaning themselves in companionable silence and when they finally sink into the hot Onsen water, small wet towels draped on top of their overheated heads and Yuuri relaxed and mellow next to him, Victor lets the calm wash through him. Under the surface of hot heavy water he lays a hand above his heart and where it thuds under his ribs to keep it inside his chest cavity and not let it fly out to the open night sky above a tiny coastal town at the end of the world.

***

It takes some getting used, Victor has to admit, and maybe Yakov wasn’t so wrong anytime he told Victor he may be a perfectionist _on_ the ice but _off_ it he is way too impulsive for him own good. He is skating at Yuuri’s home rink, all dressed in slacks and a loose shirt, and Yuuri’s eyes, so much the colour of warm chocolate, follow him whatever he does. Victor knows he is an excellent skater - they don’t call him a living legend for nothing - and his movements are graceful and able to utterly draw in the audience. Make people swoon and turn their heads. Make them catch their breath and fall for him. 

And Victor has always thought it was so, so easy. Setting the pace, so everybody follows. Enchanting audience, judges and sponsors alike, coaxing them into frenetic applause and appreciation, and dazzling people left, right and centre with his natural charm, good looks and easy flirtatiousness.

However, it’s not that easy with Yuuri and Victor has learned that he cannot just go and charm the hell out of him and everything will fall into place by itself. If anything, he needs to push him gently.

Yuuri’s eyes are shy as they follow him skate around the rink. The colour is high on his cheeks and even from across the ice Victor can notice the blush that’s adorning Yuuri’s face. It makes Victor wonder what exactly it is that Yuuri is blushing about. 

When Yuuri follows him to the ice, the blush is gone and there is a competitiveness about him that excites Victor. Yuuri’s jump skills may be underdeveloped for his age and at this point of his professional career but whatever steps Victor lets him do, whatever dance moves he asks him to perform, Yuuri just does with a grace that is natural and beautiful, and Victor wonders how well a figure Yuuri actually cuts in ballet shoes.

If it weren’t for all the jumps Yuuri would already be a top skater, of that Victor is sure. However, Yuuri is oddly reluctant to broaden his range, add up to his roster and try out other jumps than the quad toe loop he’s already landed most of the time _and_ has already landed in competition, even though he’d been quite shaky doing it. As for the others… Well, maybe Victor just has to be patient, and really, scoring high on mostly presentation is remarkable. After all, it was Yuuri’s presentation skills that had brought Victor here.

A few hours into practise Victor is once more convinced that he isn’t futely wasting his time and is indeed not currently making a fool of himself because he’s left Russia for Japan. The way Yuuri moves, undulates and forces his body into the easy compliancy of a great figure skater makes Victor smile and feel something warm tickle through his body and pool in his guts. Gone is the shy look in Yuuri’s eyes and as Yuuri rakes a hand through his sweaty hair, Victor’s heart, out of nowhere, gives an unexpected flutter. 

“Well done, Yuuri,” Victor says and throws him a towel. Yuuri catches it with quick hands only to swipe it across his face before he lets it rest in the nape of his neck. 

“I knew you had the skillset of an excellent skater. You want to win, you just have to make it happen,” Victor applauds him with an easy smile, and for a second Yuuri’s eyes glimmer. There is a softness in his gaze, just _there_ hiding in the corners of his eyes, and Victor feels the tiny unexpected flutter in his heart again. 

Victor pauses for a moment because the feeling isn’t dissimilar to the stutter the shameless and sensual dancer has evoked in him when they danced. Similar yet… charmingly different.

Maybe it’s time to finally call Chris, Victor muses. He is loath to pop the glimmering soap bubble he’s been existing in ever since he’s boarded the plane to Fukuoka, but Chris has already mailed him half a dozen times and texted him on the phone, so he cannot really lay it off any longer. Because there indeed is a lot to talk about, and since it’s been all over the news in Russia that the living legend Victor Nikiforov has taken himself far, far away without warning, it is safe to presume Chris already knows and is in fact dying of curiosity.

However, this is not the only reason to talk to Chris. Victor may have yet been unable so far to reconcile the two personalities that evidently co-exist within Yuuri Katsuki, but maybe that’s because he only has his own perspective to work with. Maybe talking to Chris and examining the events at the banquet again is what he needs to put his mind at ease and gain confidence in figuring out how to proceed. 

Yuuri smiles gratefully before he closes off his face again, but Victor has learned that this is just Yuuri’s way and there is nothing to be offended or thrown for a loop about. Self-esteem and self-awareness may yet be another issue they will need to work on.

When they leave the rink to walk back home to the hot springs they don’t talk much, but Yuuri walks just a little bit more relaxed next to him than he has done the past couple weeks, and Victor thinks that this is definitely a good start.

***

Victor knows he has found a new sense of purpose when he throws Yuuri a flirty wink and lifts his hand to twirl his fingers and show Yuuri what exactly he means when he lays out parts of the new routine for him. Yuuri’s warm-chocolate eyes are narrowed and full of determination. As he nods and skates off to execute the movement Victor has indicated, Victor feels the thud in his chest again. Yuuri has been practising that particular move for a few days now and all their effort is slowly paying off. He is strong and incontrovertibly talented and watching him struggling with his expectations and the boundaries of his body only to find and centre himself and try again is an amazing and downright inspiring thing to experience. 

Under his care and in only a couple weeks of undivided attention the silent boy with the slumped shoulders and the pulsating air of defeat around him Victor has seen their last season is slowly morphing into a man with a decidedly open wilfulness that borders on stubbornness and the will to prove himself. A man with a raw and captivating skill for expressing himself _on_ the ice while keeping most of himself, his heart and personality hidden away _off_ it. 

Victor is only too glad to see the former work for their professional companionship.

As for the latter… Yuuri doesn’t really talk about himself, and so bonding has somehow been hard so far and…

“Victor, I did it! I did the quad toe loop!” Yuuri hollers from across the rink and Victor gives him the thumbs-up. Yuuri’s smile is unmistakably proud as he comes to a halt after landing the jump.

“Well done, I knew you could do it, it was very good,” Victor applauds him, because it indeed was just that. “Do it again.” 

And Yuuri does.

Victor feels a soft smile creep onto his face when the jump works out fine again and Yuuri’s arms retain the top score posture. The execution is sure and graceful, there are enough rotations, Victor is happy to count, and as he tells Yuuri so, Yuuri’s smile expands. His eyes grow wide and bright. He is radiating bright happiness and a confidence that easily takes him through the next part of their routine. 

Arching his arms upwards in a wide and graceful bow, Yuuri bends his knees before sliding into a half-crouch and then arches up again, legs elongated, spine firm. He repeats the motion and lifts his head up towards the ceiling and Victor has the impression of a worshipper reaching towards the stars in the vain hope to catch one and pluck it out of a vast and endless sky. There is no music playing in the rink to accompany and shape the way he dances, overarching the beauty of his movements, the determination on his face and putting it into just the right emotional setting. 

Still, he’s undoubtedly beautiful, as if his body doesn’t really need the music to form a full picture. 

He is still overthinking it all too much, but Victor is content that, at this stage, it will be baby steps and gentle pushing that gets them ahead.

As he watches Yuuri enter his step sequence again, he wonders if they really are so different at all. Victor has spent his life with other skaters in a renowned-rink with a merciless but fair coach and for sure knows his way around people. But all of them had a very similar approach to skating, which is, Victor muses, no real surprise, having the same coach. Yuuri, though, didn’t and that’s what makes it interesting. Of course their personalities are totally different, yes, and while he gets along pretty well with most of the other skaters in their small world of men’s figure skating, it comes to him that he has never actually found someone who worships the ice in a similar fashion as he himself does. 

When he’d seen Yuuri dance his routine on video, he knew, despite Yuuri’s disastrous performance at the Grand Prix Final, he may have found that someone. He doesn’t know what made Yuuri dance his routine in the first place and he is yet to witness that special, compelling devotion and utter enchantment again but Yuuri has already done it once and so the only thing for Victor to do is keep looking.

“Victor, sorry but can you show me that one part again?” Yuuri calls and Victor skates out and dances the moves for him again. At first, Yuuri shyly observes the differences in their execution but after a few reruns there isn’t a lot that differs from how Victor dances it. 

Suddenly Yuuri laughs and rakes a hand through his sweaty hair where it tangles into his forehead. Victor copies him, pushes his banks out of his eyes. He smiles while inconspicuously sliding closer to him, closer to where Yuuri radiates a joy and satisfaction Victor hasn’t seen in him before.

They may be competitors for the same praise, the same medal, the same gold but here on the ice at Yuuri’s home rink they are alike; two skaters doing what they sold their souls to and feeling good about it. Amidst Yuuri’s laughter, the moment stretches between them, overarching, connecting - and somehow promisingly sweet. Victor pushes his silver bangs out of his face again and wonders if he is the only one being affected by the sudden spark.

“Good, very good,” Victor says cheerfully and lets the laughter linger a moment longer than strictly necessary, before he bring them back towards professionalism. “Your technic is that of a skater with fantastic potential.”

Yuuri’s eyes turn shy and he averts his gaze, fidgeting his fingers. He doesn’t take well to direct praise and when Victor, as is his nature, flirts with him or even touches him, he shuts off and fidgets awkwardly. Not touching someone he likes is puzzling in the extreme and not for the first time Victor wonders whether this is Yuuri’s normal reaction to people, or if this particular blush, his awkwardness and tongue-tightness are reserved for Victor alone and the idol crush that he knows Yuuri has on him. 

“There are a few intricacies you will need to work on but as long as you haven’t chosen any music to accompany your routine you still have time. We will proceed the way we’re doing now and I am sure that, within time, you will master the jumps and make the program your very own. You can already land the quad toe loop and even though it isn’t perfect it’s a start. But you need to be able to land some more of the complicated jumps to compete successfully and reach the necessary points, because quads are quite the fashion in skating programs these days, and while your expression and presentation in the past have been your strong suit, we can hardly plan ahead without the more complicated jumps. You must keep your nerves in check and work on your execution.” 

Victor smiles benignly. “After all, you will want to give a stunning performance and they will expect great from you, so you’ll have to surprise everybody. I am planning to choreograph your program to be full of emotion about romance, about seduction and courage and therefore the jumps…”

During his speech Yuuri has lowered his head and has gone quiet. Now, he abruptly turns away from Victor and stares towards the barrier of the rink, his body language closed off with something underneath that he’s trying to hide… that looks oddly like… shame? Or…?

Victor frowns. “What is it, Yuuri?” he gently asks. Under normal circumstances he would reach out a hand and touch because he is a tactile person towards those selected few he calls his friends. Ground the other in comfort. Form a bond of trust like he has seen Yakov do for so many years. Not exactly a tactile person himself, Yakov habitually approaches these situations with a deep voice that radiates firmness, strength, care and security and Victor has it on good authority that Yakov will move heaven and hell for his skaters. Victor may be new to coaching and therefore lacking experience but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to offer Yuuri the mental support the other clearly needs. 

But Yuuri is still turned away from him and the shift in the atmosphere around them is palpable. Victor oscillates a bit between too little and too much before he lets his hand fall back and rest on his hip. “I am your coach,” he say gently, “and you can tell me anything, you can trust me. I hope you know that.”

The seconds tick by and just when Victor surmises Yuuri won’t answer, because maybe he’s pushed him too far now somehow, Yuuri’s head turns a fraction towards him.

“Yes, I…” he says and hesitates. “You’re my coach.” He is still turned away from Victor but as much as Victor is puzzled by what Yuuri is cogitating about he lets it go for now.

“Good,” he says and the firmness and good humour in his voice are only a little bit forced. “Now show me that quad toe loop again, will you?”

 

***

“Ouch!”

Yuuri’s voice and the sound of skates, bones and soft tissue that hit the ice mid-landing reverberate around the empty ice rink a few hours later, and Victor’s body sets into motion before his brain can catch up on his senses. He hurries over to where black-clad limbs lie on the ice, legs akimbo but Yuuri is back on his knees and hands when Victor crouches next to him, arms outstretched and heart racing deafeningly. 

They have been working on the quad toe loop again and Victor is convinced Yuuri has successfully mastered and committed that one to muscle memory by now, so he can successfully do it again anytime now. However, something felt off and when Victor tried to coax Yuuri into trying out a more advanced jump, Yuuri had deflected and claimed he needed the bathroom. Right this instance. Then he’d practically run away and had come back all shaky and unfocused. 

Which had only lead to this.

“Yuuri, are you…?” Victor demands, voice rough, and Yuuri forces a brave smile. A smile, though, that cannot hide how white his face is.

“Sorry, Victor,” he says, voice trembling, and clutches at his left ankle and shin while he inconspicuously tries to blink away the obvious pain. His breath rate is conspicuously elevated, his chest heaving in laborious attempts to force enough oxygen down his windpipe. “I lost… I lost my balance, it won’t happen again...”

Yuuri’s eyes glaze over while he speaks and, without a second thought, Victor intuitively pushes him sideways into a sitting position and tightly grips his shoulders. 

“Yuuri, look at me,” he orders and when Yuuri does, Victor gives him a reassuring smile.

“It’s not broken, I am sure. I’ll have a look now, okay?”

Yuuri’s breathing is still more rapid than the situation - as bad as it is - really necessitates, but he convulsively nods in understanding, and Victor lifts Yuuri’s leg into his lap. He fumbles with the laces, wet and clammy from when Yuuri’s efforts at practising had him tumble to the ice a few moments before. With a frustrated huff Victor gets them untangled, loosens the tight leather and gently extricates Yuuri’s foot from the boot. Yuuri’s skin is hot and damp where Victor’s hands bunch up the fabric of his worn slacks and pulls off his sock, but his estimation is right. Nothing appears to be broken or fractured and they both let out a sigh of relief. 

“This will bruise. But if you put ice on it then it won’t be so bad.”

Yuuri purses his lips and all of a sudden he goes rigid. Screwing his eyes closed he grips the seams of his shirt and his knuckles turn white with the effort.

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Victor enquires carefully. He’s never seen anything like this before, someone that suddenly just shuts down. It feels surreal. But just as he ponders what to do, Yuuri exudes a huge breath of air and opens his eyes.

 

“Sorry, yes, I am okay, just… the pain,” he confirms and tries to blink the tears away. Nodding silently as if emphasizing his words he shakily checks his elbows and both gloved hands but everything seems to be fine. It seems his left leg suffered the brunt of the fall.

Yuuri is distressed, his focus inwards, his breathing somewhat shallow. To say it worries Victor would be an understatement because a coach is supposed to know everything about his students and Victor has only been Yuuri’s coach for less than three weeks by now. It’s easy to be in utter control when things are working just fine. Now, however…

“Your stamina is impressive, Yuuri,” Victor tells him, voice soft and soothing, distracting. “I am sure it exceeds my own by far and also that of most of the other skaters I know. It certainly helps that you haven’t sustained any major injuries so far.” He smiles and, self-consciously, Yuuri returns that smile, face still white and eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment Victor admires the way Yuuri can fight and fail and hold himself together before he lets his hands slide upwards Yuuri’s calve in a soothing gesture, Yuuri’s foot still in his lap. The offensive boot is lying a few feet away, rendered meaningless.

“Let’s try to keep it this way, shall we? Do you need a hug? Or maybe a kiss?” he teases, trying to make light of the situation and get it back onto familiar ground.

Yuuri’s eyes snap onto him and go round before his lifts his hand in a self-defending gesture and violently shakes his head. “No, no, no, it’s fine… It’s… I don’t need a… hug or a… I just…” Trailing off he swallows convulsively, eyes blinking rapidly and Victor grins, secretly bathing in the glow of Yuuri’s adorable awkwardness and how it’s so easy to tease him. It’s not like Yuuri has a reason to be so awkward around Victor, no matter his fall and weird reaction afterwards, but maybe that’s also due to the idol crush Yuuri obviously has on him. 

“Come on then,” Victor orders and rises to his feet, knees protesting at the cold that has seeped into them from where he’s crouched on the ice. “I’ll take you home.” 

Yuuri’s eyes are locked to his when Victor looks at him again and the expression on his face, the sudden focus makes him pause before sending him reeling and swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat. 

After a moment Yuuri blinks, looks away and lets Victor help him hobble off the ice.

***

At dinner Victor realises too things: The first is that it’s decidedly unhelpful and downright mean to eat Yuuri’s beloved Pork Cutlet Bowl in front of him while Yuuri himself lives off sprouts, broccoli and lean meat to broaden his bill of fare while simultaneously curbing on the fat and bad carbs he’s had too much of the past months after his disastrous Grand Prix Final. So Victor deliberately shares his fate and the diet he’s set Yuuri on. To be fair, the menu Yuuri’s mother sets in front of them is delicious anyway, so it actually isn’t such a hard feat. 

The second is, that while Yuuri’s family is constantly doting on him, all the encouragement and treatment and love they shower Yuuri with is obviously not what Yuuri so desperately needs, what he seems to crave. For reasons unknown to Victor it doesn’t really seem to help him and offer the required mental support.

They clearly love him and he loves them, everybody can see that. However, in terms of skating and comfort this love stands lacking.

It’s nobody’s fault at all, not by a long shot. The way Yuuri’s mother throws her son encouraging and fond glances while affectionately sliding a hand through his hair as she sets his plate in front of him; the funny way Yuuri’s father fills their evenings with silly flag-waving and happy stories, and how Yuuri’s sister Mari leaves them mostly in peace, minding her own business but still drops her brother affectionate glances here and there makes Victor feel very warm inside. Moving out of his own shattered family home at the age of barely nine years to become a figure skating student under the wings of Yakov Felsman and staying with him ever since - it’s something he himself has never known. Something that has never counted into his own emotional equation, having no family himself - at least none he cares for.

However, it does count into Yuuri’s, but for some reason it doesn’t really seem to be helping him to maintain his mental and emotional equilibrium, and while it is very obvious that he indeed is the loving and devoted son that selflessly wants to make his parents proud, it’s also very clear that they don’t really understand him and his obsession with figure skating at all. Yuuri is an emotional person, even though he doesn’t like Victor to see, but Victor isn’t blind. But he just cannot understand how people who clearly love each other and only have one another’s best interests at heart can be so far away from each other at times. Even though they are right here. Together. And that somehow is breaking Victor’s heart and leaves him sad and helpless.

However, the real tragedy about all that is the fact that everybody, from Yuuri himself to his parents and sister, are more than aware of this particular shortcoming in their relationships. It is perfectly obvious for Victor in the way each of them act when the respective other isn’t looking. Still, they are all trying their best to not make the other see what a burden it actually is for everyone involved. 

It’s breaking Victor’s heart that no one ever talks about it while everybody, Yuuri in particular, stoically suffers in silence.

“Yuuri,” his mother says and smiles while she approaches the table with a small bowl full of crushes ice wrapped in a towel. “Put this on your ankle. You wouldn’t want you to have to skip practise tomorrow and make Victor take a break.”

Victor finds it hard not to wince at her words, and across from him at the other side of the table Yuuri completely fails to suppress his shame. His face contorts into abject misery, and with a sinking heart Victor watches him drape the ice around his ankle that has already turned a dark blue and violet that reaches up to half his shin.

“Ah, taking a break once in a while is okay,” Victor finds himself saying, but he instantly wonders if the mortification he sees in Yuuri’s eyes hasn’t actually made it all worse. “Yuuri is pushing himself very hard and as a coach I am very pleased with all the effort he’s making,” Victor tries to lighten the mood but the bright smile he throws Yuuri’s mother feels very forced on his face. Again he reminds himself that it’s not her fault and that she is just trying to be helpful. Yuuri’s injury really isn’t much of a problem and will be healed in a day or two. They are figure skaters and the ice they work on is a hard and challenging ground to prove themselves on. So bruises come easily. However, Victor doesn’t like the indication that Yuuri is wasting Victor’s time, though, because Yuuri doesn’t do anything but, and the way it’s obviously eating at him makes Victor want to circle the table, sweep Yuuri up into his arms and carry him off to someplace safe and protected, someplace he can forget all his shame and all his mental issues.

It’s not Yuuri’s mother’s fault, though, and while consulting webpages about Japan and its skating environment Victor has come across an article about Japanese culture and tradition and has read with equal parts dread and amazement that this is just the Japanese way of not burdening others, especially guests.

So Victor lets it slide, vowing to somehow make it up to Yuuri. 

“So, Yuuri, how about we take Maccachin to play at the beach? It’s so close to your house, I am sure your leg will hold up.”

The way Yuuri gratefully smiles at him and continues eating his dinner is worth more to Victor than he can possibly explain.

***

That night Victor lies on his futon, Maccachin cuddled into his side. His heart is beating a staccato in his chest and in his head the thoughts and ideas are swirling like ocean streams. He cannot fall asleep for hours. Something has truly changed since he came to Japan, something elementary but somehow he is yet to put a finger on what exactly it is. 

He’s never planned to be somebody’s coach, never wanted to be responsible for someone else than himself and his own career. But here he is, choreographing programs that he will never skate in competition himself, supervising another skater no more than four years his junior, and yet feeling sated and content like he hasn’t in years. He’s been in Hasetsu for a little more than two weeks now and while at first he had been afraid he might spectacularly succumb to boredom he finds that so far he hasn’t. Not by a long shot. 

Instead they are making impressive progress.

No matter his recent injury, Yuuri is proving to be a drawer of hidden treasures. The way he bullies his body through the practices, the way he gracefully moves through his step sequences, his unbelievable stamina when he insists to repeat a move, a spin, a part of the routine again and again until his face shines with sweat, his hair all wet at the nape of his neck and his eyes shining with pride when he finally manages it to perfection. Some days Victor has to practically drag him off the ice so he can get a decent meal and a good night’s sleep.

Yuuri’s waist is becoming slim again, his thighs and bottom are lined with lithe muscles from all the workout he’s doing, his face is full of determination and when he skates out onto the ice he truly is a view to behold. 

Victor is secretly in awe every time Yuuri loses himself in his skating and has been wondering time and time again how it could be that Yuuri finished last at their Grand Prix Final.

Every time Yuuri steps on the ice to prepare to skate, he becomes someone else. Victor doesn’t fail to be mesmerized, finds he has to catch himself and desperately tries to reconcile the potential he witnesses in the privacy of a far-and-away ice rink at the end of the world with Yuuri’s flubbed performance at the last competition. But no matter how much he wonders how on earth such a change, such a difference is at all possible, he is indeed glad that it obviously is possible. 

If Yuuri keeps it all up, if he doesn’t get seriously injured during practise and if his nerves hold up to all the self-imposed pressure, then Victor is sure this time Yuuri will grow. Will mature as a skater and as a person and Victor wants nothing more than to see that happen. It’s actually quite humbling to be the one to coax it all out of Yuuri, but Victor pushes the thought away before it can take root and fester. Making assumptions before he gets a notion about how it all pans out is never safe, and it’s not a mistake he wants to fall prey to. 

After all, it limits the view.

The only thing that mars their success so far is the fact that there seems to be something hidden beneath all the effort Yuuri is making on the ice. Something he is either ashamed of or that he fears with an intensity that affects all the progress he has made so far. Victor just cannot fathom what it is and silently curses his lack of experience as a coach. The way Yuuri had pulled away as if to hide today on the ice, the way he’d averted his face, had gone first panicky and then quiet and deflated after his flubbed performance has Victor worried. There is still a comfortable amount of time left before they have to fuse the respective parts together and combine Yuuri’s skating with music to make it reach its full potential. 

And it will turn out to be wonderful, Victor is sure about that. He has seen many prestigious skaters since advancing into the Junior league and later on after he’s done his Senior debut. And there has always been a point where they’ve either stopped or progressed - depending on their potential - and Victor is very convinced that Yuuri fits into the latter category. As a coach Victor will help him find his devotion and turn it into something beautiful. Because Yuuri’s skating is beautiful, raw and special, and if Victor can coax Yuuri into showing all his abilities and bar his beautiful soul to the world, then taking the next season off and pondering possibilities for a future when competitive skating is over for him will not have been in vain.

However, lying on his futon and listening to Maccachin breathe, Victor still doesn’t know what exactly it is that Yuuri is hiding.

In the darkness Maccachin gives a low sleepy whine and snuggles closer into Victor’s chest. His fur is warm and soft and smells of salt water from where Victor and Yuuri have taken the poodle to the ocean this evening and hadn’t been able to soap the last remnants out of his fur before retiring for the night. 

Yuuri had been quiet at the beach, had sat on a piece of driftwood and watched Maccachin and Victor chase each other in the twilight to the never-ceasing sound of the rolling ocean waves. When they went home an hour later Victor was glad to see Yuuri at least a little less upset than before. 

It’s been quite some time since Victor has spent so much time with Maccachin and he enjoys himself now immensely. Of course the poodle doesn’t accompany them to the ice rink but it’s not because for lack of trying. Yuuri has told him he used to own a poodle himself, a tiny thing by the name of Vicchan he misses dearly. So it’s no surprise he and his family have taken an immediate liking to Maccachin, and Victor is happy that Maccachin himself seems to be content with living so far away from his usual walking routes and dog friends in the streets of St. Petersburg. 

Victor chuckles in the dark. He may not be familiar with the Japanese language apart from a few names for dishes and doesn’t know a thing about diminutives, but he’s not an idiot. The way Yuuri has blushed and fidgeted several times when the topic circled around his own dog and its very peculiar name had Victor check a grammar website on his third day and smile into his phone.

Idol crush, _obviously_ , and apparently one that doesn’t exist since only yesterday. In any case, it’s a sore point for Yuuri, embarrassed as he seems to be and awkward as he is around Victor in particular. Briefly, Victor wonders whether this is the reason Yuuri has rejected him when Victor offered him a hug earlier. It’s not like Victor offered it to spite or offend him in any way, shape or form. 

But… 

Would the side of Yuuri that pole danced in public and challenged them all to get rid of their ties have rejected a hug or a kiss? Would he have also rejected more if Victor had offered?

That actually is the _really_ interesting question.

Just as he rolls over onto his side to curl around Maccachin, shove all his worries off to be solved another day and finally try and go to sleep, soft treading noises just outside of his door catch his attention. He listens to bare feet creep past the paper partitions of his room, a slight falter in every other step, and rises to blink towards their origin. The way they sound and where they are coming from suggest only one possible option and before Victor can think about it, he is sidling out of his bed, dons a yukata and silently opens his door.

The hallway is dark where the moonlight gets caught between the wooden beams of the house. It really is an impressive house, old, build mainly out of wood and paper with the occasional glass window, all on top of a wooden fundament on top of several dozen timber planks. It consists of two parts, one for the Onsen guests and one reserved for the family quarters. In fact, the latter is where Victor is also staying, though he didn’t find out about the bisection until his second week. The paper doors that compartmentalize the ground floor can be individually moved to enlarge or minimise the respective rooms and he was amused to find out his own room actually used to be a part of Yuuri’s old children’s room that was bisected when he moved out to join his former coach Celestino Cialdini in Detroit.

It’s quite practical, Victor admires, forming and deforming rooms according to the respective situational need, but maybe for someone that spends most of his year in boring hotel rooms that somehow all look the same, this traditional Japanese Inn does have a certain appeal and charm. And, seriously, isn’t a futon the cosiest bed he’s ever slept on?

As Victor silently tiptoes along, a banked light appears in the hallway rectangular to the one he is in at the moment. Now, after midnight the whole house is quiet and Victor is sure that everybody, from family to guests, has long since gone to bed. So what and why is…?

Around the corner the hallway opens up into a tiny garden and there, just where the wooden floor forms a dais in front of a neat pathway made of round and regular stones, someone sits between the paper partitions that lead outside. If it wasn’t for the tiny light illuminating Yuuri’s front and throwing half his face into shadows where he’s turned away from the lamp to look out into the garden, Victor might not have noticed him at all. 

Stopping silently behind him, Victor is sad to find Yuuri’s shoulders dropped and hunched. He’s sitting sideways in the door, his back resting against the frame, his injured leg stretched out on the wooden floor, an iced towel wrapped around it. Yuuri must have renewed the ice and then decided he didn’t want to go to sleep yet. Instead he has come here, into the garden at night. For a moment, Victor wonders how many times a worried and sleepless Yuuri had done just that as a child.

“Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?”

“Oh, _Victor_ … My god,” Yuuri splutters and nearly topples over the edge of the dais and into the garden. “You… God, you startled me…”

“Sorry,” Victor smiles and indicates the space in front of Yuuri at the other side of the open doorway. Yuuri blinks uncomprehendingly for a second before he nods frantically and Victor sits, his legs dangling over the edge and spilling onto the garden path.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “You cannot sleep?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… I am sorry if I woke you.” Yuuri is obviously still caught off guard, so Victor only shrugs his shoulders in a non-committal way. For a while they sit in silence, looking out into the garden and the Onsen but Victor feels Yuuri steal glances into his direction every other minute. His shoulders are still hunched and he’s practically radiating abject misery and distress. 

It’s the side of Yuuri Katsuki Victor has seen for the past two weeks, the side that’s constantly throwing him for a loop, and while that _other_ side of him, the one Victor has first been captivated by, even shamelessly attracted to where he’s seen him pole dance competing with Chris - all confident and radiant - may have been the one he had on the forefront of his mind when he booked the flight to Japan, it is _this one_ , shy and fragile, decidedly lacking self-esteem, that danced Victor’s own routine with a compassion that easily rivals everything Victor has ever seen before. Yuuri has fallen deep and yet tries to fight and shoulder everything by himself. Victor still doesn’t know how to reconcile these two sides of him but he is certainly impressed and awed by the shy yet talented skater with the beautiful eyes and warm smile.

Yuuri Katsuki is a conundrum, Victor muses, and it occurs to him that simply wooing him, charming him like he’s done so many others so many times before to get what he wants just won’t do. Charming him would be too shallow, too superfluous.

Instead, Victor will have to slowly untangle him, unlock his secrets to see what’s inside. It is a mystery that, despite everything, Victor finds himself very much compelled to figure out, because he is just so entranced by its spark. It’s nothing like he ever expected to find here in Japan, and the challenge both excites him and fills his heart with a compassion he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before. 

However, Victor needs to be very careful so he doesn’t push Yuuri too far, because this side of him is just so, so breakable.

In the silence of the Onsen garden it comes to Victor that in coming to Japan he’s once again given into his impulsive nature instead of properly thinking through a situation first, consider all the options and what they may entail. And not just for himself.

“You didn’t,” he belatedly says and smiles softly. “I was still awake.”

They sit in silence for another while and the ice towel around Yuuri’s ankle slowly melts, forming a sad puddle on the tatami. It’s surprisingly warm outside for a night in spring, though, and so it will all have dried away come morning. Victor looks out into the garden, offering Yuuri space.

“Yuuri,” Victor finally gears up to say, because they have actually never talked about it in the fortnight Victor is here. “What is it that you want me to do for you?”

Out of the corners of his eyes he sees Yuuri flinches and frantically blink before his gaze drops to the floor, resolutely not looking at Victor.

“Ah,” he says and the defeat in his voice is more than audible. “I was wondering when you’d tell me you’ll be going back home to Russia.”

Victor is instantly thrown for a loop but shakes it off and steels himself for the inevitable conversation. After all, he was the one who came here unannounced and practically forced himself upon Yuuri. Yuuri may have asked him to be his coach at the banquet but he was utterly wasted when he did and therefore cannot be held responsible. Or maybe this is just a veiled way for Yuuri to tell him he doesn’t want Victor around?

“Is that what you want me to do?” he asks, aiming for confidence and probably missing by a mile. “Leave and go back to Russia? I’ll go if that’s what you want, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s voice is hoarse with unshed tears, his eyes raw and vulnerable when he answers, “No, I don’t want you to go.” 

Victor smiles again in silent relief, and despite the mystery that evolves the other man, despite the obvious despair he can hear in Yuuri’s voice, when they turn to finally look at each other - Yuuri with his warm-chocolate eyes shrouded in half-shadows and rimmed red from all the tears he must have cried alone in his room earlier - it hits Victor how unbelievably captivating, how beautiful Yuuri actually is. 

And even though this side of Yuuri is a far cry from the flirty one that danced with him at the banquet and stripped down to his briefs to show off his skills on the pole; even though Victor has felt a fluttering in his chest before when he coached Yuuri at the rink, it may be _this_ moment, _this_ sight that unfolds before Victor’s very eyes in the weak light on a porch in a tiny Japanese town at the end of the world that has Victor’s heart beating more frantically that he can remember it beating in a long, long time.

“I was hoping you would say that,” Victor says and has to clear his throat and focus.

“You are an excellent skater, Yuuri, I didn’t say that to mollycoddle you. However, I feel like we should probably approach things differently, and as your coach that responsibility is mine.” Pausing Victor looks out into the garden where the tiny lamp throws its flickering light over the grass and bushes until it gets lost in shadows. “It is my duty to work with your advantages and I can see plenty. You have an impressive stamina and while the jumps you can already do lack precision and vigour, your footwork and spins are something we can definitely work with. We will have to incorporate more of the complicated jumps into your programs, so you will have to start learning them, but I am sure you’ll manage.”

While Victor has spoken Yuuri has turned his face away and shrunken even more into the doorway as if he is trying to blend into the wood. Briefly, Victor wonders what exactly has led to that and what he’s done wrong but a moment later he barrels on.

“I am already working on a plan but there is something we’re lacking. So…” Here Victor hesitates, wondering if maybe he’s coming on too strong and only ends up confusing Yuuri. “Yakov has been my coach for nearly 20 years and knows me very well, a fact that has always worked in my favour. So, I want to get to know _you_ , Yuuri. Everything you can do and can’t, on the ice and off. What you like and what you don’t like, who your friends are and what you do when you don’t skate.” He hesitates again but then decides to just go ahead and ask, “If there is someone you like…”

“There isn’t much I do off the ice,” Yuuri answers and the fact that he picks that question and not one of the others, especially not the last one, tells Victor a bit more about Yuuri’s heart and conviction. Fragile, indeed, but also deeply devoted to figure skating.

Is there anything else Yuuri is devoted to, Victor wonders but Yuuri is drawing in breath again.

“And there isn’t much to know about me.” Yuuri sneers self-deprecatingly. “I am a figure skater who has demolished his own program and shamed his country and family. There is only one complicated jump I can land and I just can’t… I can’t…” 

Treading carefully, Victor nods, and with his voice low and non-judgmental, says, “Yes, you can only land one jump but why do you think that has to stay like that? I’ve seen you do wonderful things on the ice, Yuuri, I’ve seen you do so much progress and work so hard, and I refuse to believe you aren’t capable of winning a gold metal. Because that’s what you want, isn’t it? Win a gold medal.” 

To his surprise Yuuri’s eyes are hard, his gaze firm when he turns to look straight at Victor. “Yes,” he retorts fiercely, “Yes, that’s what I want.” They stare at each other and Victor is again thrown for a loop by the sudden change in Yuuri’s demeanour. But just when he gears up to smile, Yuuri’s face falls and the angry blush that Victor has seen many times returns. “Sorry,” Yuuri mumbles and shrinks in on himself, clearly embarrassed. It’s a heart-breaking thing to watch. “I guess I just… I don’t have a whole lot of confidence.”

Composing himself Victor says, “Then it is my job to make you find your confidence… No, don’t look at your ankle, these are things that just happen. We are figure skaters and at some point everyone gets injured.” 

Yuuri has averted his gaze and focuses on the wet towel around his leg, but before he can move and reach a hand out to touch it, Victor slides over to him, unceremoniously lifts his foot and puts it into his lab. With lithe and careful fingers he removes the wrappings and takes in Yuuri’s injury.

His first estimation at the rink has proved to be correct and while the ankle is bruised halfway up to the shin, there are no swellings. The ice has helped to keep it all down but it has probably been more of a mental thing instead of a physical injury that has had Yuuri so depressed and miserable the whole evening. As far as Victor can tell he had been fine on the beach and if Victor would have thought the injury too bad, he wouldn’t have allowed Yuuri to go in the first place. Instead, he’d taken him to take his mind off things and maybe offer a different perspective. 

Now he lets Yuuri’s foot rest properly in his lap while his fingers stroke across the tibialis posterior up to the crook of Yuuri’s leg and down again to his Achilles tendon. Yuuri’s skin is soft and cold where the towel has been wrapped around. Victor has never given a foot massage before and knows he needs to be mindful of the bruises patterning Yuuri’s skin, but since he doesn’t know if - after two weeks of awkwardly evading the matter - he can finally make Yuuri talk, deepen their relationship with words, build bridges, maybe this is how he can reach out, form a bond between them and make Yuuri see that Victor will stay true to his word and really be his coach. 

And stay. Because he may not have properly planned all this, but there is one thing Victor is certain of above all others: Staying in Japan and coaching Yuuri is what he wants. With all his heart.

So he moves a bit closer to Yuuri, and circling his toes with his fingers, thus making Yuuri wince slightly, he says, “I am sure there is a side deep within you that is capable of letting all your dreams come true. Maybe you haven’t found that side yet and maybe no one’s ever seen it before but I know it is there. It may be an alluring side of you that you yourself are unaware of. Can you show it to me, Yuuri? Can you show me what made you sell your soul to the ice?” 

They stare at each other and it is another moment before Victor realises just how close he’s sitting to Yuuri and how strong the pull is that has brought him there. Their skin is radiating heat where Victor’s hands have yet again slid upwards to massage Yuuri’s Achilles tendon, his soleus and tibialis anterior. A part of Victor, and he doesn’t know how strong that part actually is, is positively and mindlessly revelling at the erotic gesture and all the implication that comes with it. Yuuri may not be aware of it but he _indeed_ is a beautiful man, and - just like Victor - he is only wearing a yukata, loosely bound with a sash around his waist. It has fallen open around Yuuri’s tights when Victor moved his foot into his lab and angled his leg so he can sit closer, alluringly leaving an enticing amount of skin in half-shadows beneath the retreating fabric. Briefly, Victor wonders if Yuuri is wearing black boxer briefs underneath before a sharp gasp snaps him out of his reverie.

“ _Victor_ …” 

Yuuri’s voice is wracked, his face flushed beet red, eyes wide. It seems as if it has taken him all the oxygen left in his lungs to utter a single word, and Victor is dazzled beyond compare. They resort to staring at each other again until, abruptly, Yuuri’s leg twitches where Victor still holds it in his hands, fingers kneading into the soft skin and hard muscles of his thigh just beneath the crook of his knee. 

The moment is instantly broken and Victor lets go, immediately feeling the loss of body contact and where it has warmed him. Approaching one o’clock in the morning he can now feel the chill seeping into his clothes and skin underneath. Across from him, Yuuri skittishly reties the sash around his waist, draws his yukata down around his legs and shivers. He looks positively discombobulated and a part of Victor is not at all surprised when he suddenly jumps to his feet, accidently kicking the wet towel off the dais. With a wet and sorry splash it lands on the garden path and, ridiculously, Victor is overcome by the absurd urge to laugh.

Instead, he reaches out and catches the seam of Yuuri’s yukata before the other man can storm off.

“Let’s take a day off,” he suggests, kneading the cotton fabric beneath his fingers, his knuckles white where he grips it too tight. “Your father told me there will be a festival in town, with fireworks.” He smiles and, flirtatiously, says, “Will you take me out and show me Japanese fireworks? I heard it was different from what we do at home in Russia.”

For a moment Yuuri only stares again and, briefly, Victor surmises that they look kind of ridiculous together; Yuuri standing above him, arms around himself and his yukata, poised for flight, and him crouching on the floor, most of his weight on one hand while he’s leaning over to get a hold on Yuuri. Like a villain trying to catch a blushing maiden. 

“Take… take you out?” Yuuri stutters and his voice is squeaky and high. “Out… like… like a… date?” He sounds downright panicked now, his hands flying to cover his mouth, and it is only Victor’s strong grip around the seam of his yukata that holds him in place. 

Victor smiles reassuringly and winks at his choice of words but doesn’t cease his grip on the yukata.

“It can be a date if you want but I’d rather you take me out as a good friend you enjoy spending time with.”

Yuuri seems to consider this for a moment, and when he answers, his voice is calmer. “Okay, Victor, then I will take you out to the festival as a good friend I am still getting to know.”

With that, he retrieves his yukata from Victor’s grip, convulsively bows his head in farewell and disappears into the house, leaving Victor behind, stunned and blinking rapidly.

***

“Maccachin, bring it here,” Victor hollers. The poodle returns to him and, wagging his tail excitedly, drops the driftwood stick at his feet. Victor picks it up, throws it off in a wide arch and Maccachin bounds off again.

They are at the beach and Victor is revelling in the poodle’s excitement of the nearly two dozen times Victor has already thrown the stick. Every time it sails away into the morning breeze Maccachin is up and about, fetching it to bring it back to Victor, his big dog eyes silently begging for just another round of their game. 

It’s no hardship at all to indulge him.

That night Victor couldn’t sleep at all. After their conversation at the Onsen garden Victor has retrieved the wet towel from under the dais, and after deposing it in the kitchen has tried to go to sleep. Only to find that he couldn’t because of all the things swirling through his brain that were effectively refusing to put out the light and let him slink off into soft oblivion.

When the morning dawned and found him still awake and pondering, Victor has decided it was all to no avail. He’d gotten up, dressed and had taken Maccachin out for a walk. Much to the poodle’s delight they’ve ended up at the beach, and Victor had lost himself in the repetitive motion of throwing the driftwood stick and meandering aimlessly around the soft sand where it hits the water line.

Usually he loves the beach, especially at sunrise. He’s travelled a lot in the course of his career even though he’s not really ever gone on holidays but has visited the beach at St. Petersburg multiple times and always feels at ease at the soft lull of the ocean waves and the cries of the seagulls overhead. Apart from the ice it probably is the location where he can think most properly.

However, today he’s soon found he’s utterly unable to let his mind chew over his problems and decided to just push it all away as far as it would go so he can enjoy the peaceful morning with his beloved poodle by his side. 

***

Mari awaits them at the front door to the Onsen when they get back a couple hours later, hair windblown and Maccachin tired but happily trailing him.

“Ah, there you are,” she says in that unfazed way of hers before the corners of her mouth twitch into what is a smile on her face. “I’ve already prepared your breakfast and was wondering where you’ve been gone off to.” 

As Victor approaches her, she fixes her gaze onto him. “You can come, too, Victor.”

For a moment Victor is confused into silence before an indulgent smile forms on his face. Of course, Mari is talking to Maccachin. She’s been fond of him ever since, recklessly spoils him with scraps from the kitchen whenever no one is looking and takes him out whenever Victor and Yuuri leave early for their workout or practise sessions at the ice rink. Victor has secretly wondered about that but Mari generally seems more comfortable on her own or with Maccachin or the cats of their neighbourhood than she seems to be around humans. The poodle had taken an instant liking to her, and Victor is oddly touched now by how he bounds off to meet Mari, bumps his nose into the crook of her legs and the palms of her hands and leads her inside.

***

Since he can neither lay it off nor properly think at the Onsen where everyone is busy with the morning preparations, Victor retreats to Hasetsu Ice Castle and ties his skates. Yuuri had still been asleep when Victor left but, anyway, he’s promised him a day off, so a day off is what Yuuri and his bruises get.

As Victor steps onto the familiar surface of the ice he feels calmer, and once he’s committed to the soothing repetition of circling the rink, the chaos in his mind slowly starts to untangle. He’s brought his iPod with him and into his third leisure circle he plugs in the ear buds. Johann Sebastian Bach is bulky and powerful and the way it sweeps through his brain makes him feel powerful himself and helps him regain the composure Victor desperately needs to suss out what exactly he is to do now.

In a phone text he’s asked Chris for a bit of his time earlier but since it’s a nine hour time difference between Zurich and Hasetsu it’s only past midnight where Chris is now, and while a part of him desperately needs to hear his voice and talk to him, Victor wishes for the other skater to have his wits about him and not be either tired, drunk or in bed with his boyfriend.

And there is just so much Victor needs to talk about.

He’s left Russia on a whim, a spoiled and overfed skater, lacking inspiration and tired of his own fame and the never-changing circle of preparing to fight and then just passing through until someone hangs a gold medal around his pale neck. It’s become increasingly obvious that, while he had been truly amazed by Yuuri’s performance and therefor had booked a flight to Japan, deep within his heart he had longed to flee St. Petersburg and leave it all behind. And impulsive and careless as he sometimes is, he’s done just that. Now, however, he feels a bit lost and stunned into silence by what he’s actually chosen to do and what that entails: Coach a skater without having gained any coaching experience beforehand; a skater that is wildly talented but that Victor doesn’t know how to unlock said talents and transfer them onto the ice. 

He’d meant it when he told Yuuri to trust him but Victor isn’t exactly sure Yuuri does. Maybe he still sees him as the famous but carefree jerk who’s bounded into his home unannounced and, completely starkers, demanded to be his coach. So perhaps it’s high time for Victor to prove himself and show Yuuri how serious he intends to take his coaching.

However, the trust issues aren’t Victor only problems.

Since the Grand Prix Final Yuuri has seemed oddly hesitant to try and perform other, more complicated jumps than his quad toe loop, and it is with a feeling of dread in his stomach that Victor remembers how he’s made him try the day before. It’s hard to say what exactly went wrong but Yuuri was all shaken up and unfocused, and Victor still doesn’t understand why. It might have been progressive to actually ask the man but somehow it didn’t feel right last night. 

So it remains an issue to be uncovered. 

Also skating in front of an audience somehow is an issue, and Yuuri has even been bashful and lacking concentration when others are there to pay them a visit. It’s not that Yuuri cannot skate in front of other people anymore; he’s skated in front of Victor, and he did it beautifully. Maybe it’s because Yuuri thinks he’s shamed his country when he came in last at the Grand Prix Final and hasn’t even qualified for the Worlds afterwards or maybe it’s because of the idol crush that Yuuri always gets so nervous when there are people around Victor and him, but either way it’s just so obvious that Yuuri totally lacks confidence in himself and Victor should have easily seen it before. 

A more experienced coach would have seen it before and acted accordingly.

How can he make Yuuri see himself clearly, how can he provide him with what he needs when Yuuri apparently doesn’t even know it himself? Yakov has always known what Victor needed, both on and off the ice, and while he’s been gruff and yelled a lot when Victor didn’t heed his advice, Yakov had sculptured the frame in which Victor has become the magnificent and world-renowned skater he is today.

This is what he wants for Yuuri to also bloom into, because he is incredibly talented and stubborn enough and he loves and worships the ice, sold his soul to it, and Victor will give him whatever he needs to make it happen, of that he is sure.

And then there is also this _thing_ between them. This spark that Victor has felt several times now. The spark that is just so different from the blatant sexual attraction he’s felt towards the other man at the banquet. At first Victor had been hit by Yuuri dancing with him and had practically drowned in lust when he had seen Yuuri pole dance with Chris. 

However, in the past couple weeks it’s become increasingly clear that this side of Yuuri, the blatant, stormily sexual one, that has shamelessly drawn him in - that made him feel alive and hot all over and curse his official attire to the deepest pits of hell, that flirted with him and clearly wanted him before Yuuri had passed out drunk - is just a persona that disappointment and an unholy amount of champagne had him don. The Yuuri Victor has met in Japan couldn’t be more different, and while in the months past the banquet Victor has chided himself endlessly about the wasted opportunity to take that wild side of Yuuri to bed, he’s come to be very much drawn in by the quiet, yet talented Yuuri he’s been interacting with every day for the past fortnight. The one that is awkward and easily flustered, the one that works so hard and practises until he falls asleep on his feet. The one that walks Victor’s dog and whose happy laugh is so incredibly incandescent. 

The Yuuri that skates with him and makes the ice feel alive and prosperous and less lonely again.

The Yuuri that’s real and _right there_ , that blushes so adorably and is just so, so strong, and while the shameless dancer had him experience the wettest dreams he’s ever had, it’s the shy and careful skater with the precious glint in his warm-chocolate eyes that has made him want to stay in Japan and put his own skating career to a cheap backseat in his mind.

Victor may still be overall happy in that small Japanese town at the end of the world because it is so far away from everything he’s been upset about, but now that he finally understands what he needs to become, what he needs to reconcile and provide to be a great coach to Yuuri, he’s feeling very, very far from being lazily content and peaceful anymore.

Still, it’s a challenge he’s eager to accept, and he expects himself to glow with it.

While skating across the rink and doing spins and quads and steps Victor notices that Bach has turned into a pop song, and when he checks his iPod he wonders when exactly he’s put the soundtrack to ‘Dirty Dancing’ into his repertoire. He is aimlessly browsing music files for something else to listen to when, out of the corners of his eyes, he notices movement at the side of the rink.

“Good morning,” Yuuko greets him and Victor, with a smile on his face that comes easily, skates over to meet her. Yuuko and her family have been nothing but endlessly supportive since Victor has shown up at their ice castle, and one of the very few things Yuuri has revealed to him about himself is that she, her husband Takeshi and three children are among his closest friends. 

Skating up to her where she waves and beams at him Victor feels grateful that they have never let Yuuri down, support him with stoic and single-minded determination and treat him with nothing but the utmost fondness. 

“Hello Yuuko,” he retorts cheerfully as he stops in front of her. “Yuuri isn’t here.”

“Yes, I know, he’s got hurt yesterday and you gave him the day off,” Yuuko says with a dismissive shake of her hand, and Victor is struck by how fast news obviously travel in small towns. 

“Takeshi saw you coming in earlier but you were skating and I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ve just come to say hello.”

Victor smiles indulgently and is suddenly struck by inspiration.

From what little Yuuri has told him he’s gleaned that Yuuko and Yuuri must have spent a lot of time together growing up and Victor allows himself a private smile as he imagines two wide-eyed children testing out their abilities on the ice and watching hours’ worth of skating footage on TV and VCR. So Victor gives Yuuko a flirty look and, palm up, extends his hand to her. “Skate with me?”

Yuuko blushes furiously and Victor thinks he’s just found someone else with a massive idol crush.  
“Skate…? With you…? But…” Yuuko laughs, embarrassed but flattered, fidgeting wildly where she stands and Victor instantly knows he has her.

“Yes, with _me_ ,” he emphasizes and flashes her his most winning and manipulating smile. “Go get your skates, I’ll be waiting for you. No excuses.”

***

Apart from being constantly flustered whenever Victor touches her to guide her into a spin or tease her about her messy bun that keeps on coming loose and that she has to adjust every time it does, skating with Yuuko is no hardship at all. She must have been really good once before she’s decided to become a married mother of triplets and manage an ice rink. Her movements are a bit shaky at the beginning but once she is able to put her idol crush aside and rely on Victor to lead her into arcs and circles, they make quite a good pair. 

And Victor is amazed by how much fun he’s having. Nearly as much, he surmises, as he’d have with an adorable and beautiful Yuuri on the ice while they dance and touch and smile. God, it would be so fantastic to pair skate with Yuuri once, even it was just for fun.

But this is Yuuko taking his hand now and Victor reminds himself again that he is on a mission. 

After half an hour Yuuko becomes tired and they resort to skating in circles around the ice. She keeps her respectful distance, careful not to bump into him and again Victor is amazed by how polite, respectful and adaptive these people of Hasetsu are. Yuuri is indeed a very lucky person to have so many people around him who like and support him without condition and stipulation. Like an extended family. Apart from Yakov that’s something Victor himself has never known.

Yuuko is chattering away happily and Victor is listening to her recounting childhood skating stories and is surprised when Yuuko lets it slip that it was her who introduced Yuuri to the skater Victor Nikiforov. So, he sums up, it’s actually her he has to thank for Yuuri’s idol crush and yes, it doesn’t exist since only yesterday. He allows himself another private smile when she tells him how she and Yuuri have stood up late to watch the competitions and tried to learn to skate the programs afterwards.

“It’s always been your programs Yuuri wanted to learn,” Yuuko is saying. “He said you looked amazing with your long silver hair, and that one day he wants to skate on the same ice with you and...” She stops herself in midsentence and a hand flies up to cover her mouth. “Oh sorry, Victor, don’t tell Yuuri I told you, he wouldn’t like it very much.”

Victor’s smile widens, and giving her a conspiratorial wink, he nods consent. “You can rely on me, I won’t tell a word of it.”

The way Yuuko smiles at him in return is quiet and a bit wistful, and suddenly the air around them changes. Victor can feel it instantly and braces himself for all the things he’s taken Yuuko to the ice to find out about. 

“He likes you, Victor, and he’s trying to give his best for you. Everybody can see that.” Her eyes are concerned but earnest as she says that. It comes to Victor that Yuuko must have secretly been harbouring doubts about his reliability towards Yuuri and his skating abilities and fervently hopes that this conversation will not tumble into an awkward _break-his-heart-and-I’ll-break-your-legs-_ sort of-talk. 

Because after seeing Yuuri skate his program and how precious, sweet and strong he really is even though he might not be aware of that himself, Victor is sure he never could and even the notion itself is utterly ridiculous.

“I know he does, Yuuko, and I can _see_ it. I’ve told him it was my job to make him find his confidence and that’s what I intend to do. I just…” Victor trails off, unsure whether to directly address the issue himself or let Yuuko suss it out on her own and provide him with more and integral insight.

“Frankly, I was afraid he’d never go back to the ice, but now he’s taking it all so seriously again,” she says, oblivious to Victor’s inner turmoil. “I thought he might not leave his room for months. I thought he’d loose courage and retire after his disastrous Grand Prix Final debut. I am just so happy that he didn’t. I want to see him skate his best.”

This they surely have in common and Victor gears up for more. Letting all his frustration bleed into his voice he says, “His best is _far more_ than what you have seen so far, I know that. What I don’t know is how to make him unlock it and show it off on the ice. I don’t know what to do, there’s something he’s not telling me. You see, there was this incident before he fell yesterday and…” He trails of, surprised at _how_ frustrated he actually sounds, and for a moment he feels a pang of stupidity and self-consciousness for confiding in Yuuko, because if it hasn’t been clear by now that he doesn’t have a clue about what he’s supposed to do, he’s effectively cleared that impression now. 

But Yuuko only furrows her brows in concentration, and for half a circle around the ice rink she says nothing. When she does speak again, it takes Victor by surprise. “I’m Yuuri’s friend and I really, really want what’s best for him but…” Suddenly she seems flustered and averts her gaze. Stopping at the barrier of the ice rink she chews her lower lip, and Victor wonders what it is that she’s not telling him. 

“You will have to ask Yuuri, Victor, or rather wait until he tells you himself,” she states. “I am sorry but it’s really not my place to tell.”

“But you’re his friend. Surely you want to give him all the advantage he can get.”

But Yuuko shakes her head and firmly plants her feet onto the ice, the very picture of stubbornness. “That still wouldn’t make it right,” she says and her voice is low and brooking no argument. “Yuuri will want to tell you himself and if you are only half the man I take you for, if you really want what’s best for him, you will wait for him, do you understand? You will stay and do what you’ve said you came here for! No excuses.”

Yuuko stares at him with laser focus and Victor feels like a boy caught red-handed with the cookie jar. He’s obviously not spared _the talk_ but, if anything, he appreciates that Yuuko actually dares and surprises him with such a heartfelt version. After all, she’s very protective of Yuuri, and maybe it’s just another thing Victor should have just se _seen_ en and anticipated. 

Victor wonders what his face is doing because, abruptly, Yuuko goes beet red and sways on her feet. However, before he can inquire what’s wrong with her or steady her so her knees don’t buckle and she falls onto the ice, her mouth turns into a bright and wide smile. “Oh my god,” she squeals, both her hands hovering over her mouth, but they do nothing to hide her fierce joy and relief. “I am sorry, I am sorry, but I just… I just had to say this to you!”

Victor is flabbergasted and can only stare at her but Yuuko doesn’t pay him much heed. “I am sorry,” she repeats and seems to regain her composure again. “God, I am so glad I did it. Oh, we’ll be such good friends, Victor, I am sure of it.”

When Victor can still only stare at her and wonder what on earth is going on and whether he’s made Yuuko crack up somehow, Yuuko straightens her spine, her face returns to its normal complexion again and she smiles cheerfully. 

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

***

No matter how insistent, flirty and downright manipulative Victor acts to make Yuuko tell him this something about Yuuri she’d hinted at, she remains stubbornly silent, insisting that he’ll have to get to know Yuuri better and find out himself, and despite his initial disappointment Victor finds he’s looking forward to taking on that task. After all, it’s what he’s told Yuuri he wanted and he’ll stick by it. 

And since Yuuko refuses to enlighten him on that particular matter but for sure possesses the necessary compassion, Victor decides to present her with another, rather more personal question that’s been floating on his mind since he’s caressed Yuuri’s foot, leaned in close to him and felt a pull so strong he still cannot think straight, only to have Yuuri run away and leave him alone on a porch well after midnight.

“You’ve known him for so long, what can I do for him, what does he want me to be?”

The question sounds ridiculously pathetic and Victor cannot believe he’s stooped so low but Yuuko regards him with another furrowed eye brow and chews her lip in concentration, before she shrugs and gives him an apologetic smile.

“I don’t really know. You’re too young to be a father figure, so a friend perhaps? He’s admired you most of his life and now you’re here. If you are his friend it might give him confidence.”

Victor smirks self-deprecatingly and feels a faint flush rise into his cheeks. Sometimes he very nearly forgets about the fact that - while he may be considered old, positively ancient in the skating world where everybody’s been wondering for a season or two whether he’ll retire willingly on his peak or drag it out until younger skaters prove to be unbeatable, and Victor Nikiforov, the living legend of men’s figure skating, goes out like a candle in the wind - he is, in fact, a young man well under 30. 

And of course he’s Yuuri’s friend, Yuuko cannot seriously doubt him on that.

“I hope so.”

Turning to Yuuko again he sees her check her watch, before she skates off to the door in the barrier of the rink.

“Sorry, Victor, I really gotta dash. But I am happy we’ve gotten together. Is Yuuri well enough to attend the festival? It’s a two-day-thing but we’ll be taking the triplets tonight where it’s less crowded. Will you come, too?”

“Yuuri will be okay again,” he finds himself saying. “And yes, we shall be there.”

Yuuko flashes him another bright smile, sits on the closest bench to untie her skates, and Victor leans his elbows on the barriers to watch her.

“You truly believe in him, do you not, Yuuko?” he suddenly asks, making Yuuko look upwards to where he looms over her. “You believe he can win the gold and stand on the podium.”

She doesn’t even consider the question before she answers it. “Yes, I do. And I also believe in you, Victor. Be what he needs and you’ll both be fine. After all,” Yuuko giggles like a teenage girl, tears off her skates, and lilting the long vowel in her last word into the semblance of an “o”, states, “together you are Victuuri.”

Giggling madly she hurries to wave him goodbye and scarpers off into the front service area, leaving a dumbstruck Victor behind who can only bury his head in his hands and growl in embarrassed mortification.

***

After Yuuko has left, Victor keeps on circling the ice. This time around, he abandons the jumps and the more difficult steps and spins because after his conversation with Yuuko they require way too much brain capacity. 

As he skates along, iPod clenched in his hand and ear buds around his neck, amidst all the new data he’s gleaned so far _one thing_ becomes crystal clear: No matter the two sides of the coin that is Yuuri Katsuki, the enticing mystery the man poses and no matter the something he doesn’t tell Victor, Yuuri is a massively talented skater, and coaching him might actually be the most demanding and most daring thing Victor will ever do.


	2. Gravity

In the end it takes Yuuri two days to fully recover again and stretch his leg and ankle without scrunching up his face in discomfort. So they have to skip the first day of the festival but resign themselves to go on the second. Victor is thrilled to hear that the fireworks will be held the second evening, and while the first day is dedicated to a local deity Yuuri seems hard-pressed to come up with data about when Victor asks him, the second day is supposed to be the resounding party Victor has hoped it would be.

For some reason Yuuri seems nervous the whole day but then first Minako and a little later Yuuko call to tell them they’ve changed their plans so they can all go together. Yuuri only listens, and at some point on the phone with Yuuko his eyes briefly snap over to Victor. He doesn’t say anything, only answers with a soft “okay” at the end, but the private smile that appears on his face after he disconnects tells Victor his true feelings about how his friends accommodate him.

Victor isn’t idle during those two days he cannot take Yuuri to dance on the ice. So instead he takes him for another slow walk at the beach with Maccachin and is delighted when Yuuri laughs out loud and fondly scratches the poodle’s ears after Victor has thrown the driftwood stick and Maccachin takes it back not to him but to Yuuri instead.

He texts Chris again and even tries to call him but the other man downright ignores him, but later texts back that he had been attending the birthday party of a friend and therefore had been in absolutely no condition for a chat that consists of more than growled syllables and other drunken antics. So, via text, they discuss to get together on the phone the next day, preferably late, so Chris can sleep in, sober and prepare himself.

So Victor takes to the ice and finally composes the first sketch of a routine that, once Yuuri owns it and they combine it with just the right music, is sure to make him shine.

And yet all this new task and determination isn’t the only reason any longer for Victor to stay in Japan and strengthen his resolve to grow into the coach Yuuri needs. It’s not the only thing that’s making his heart pound away in his chest like a steamroller - that fills him up with a sort of joy he’s sure he’s never felt before - and despite having already been sleepless for one night, Victor lies in bed after dinner, exhausted and full of delicious food, and replays the scene in his head. A scene that has happened just right before lunch after he came back that day from skating with Yuuko and trying to clear his head, and while the conversation he’s had with Yuuri the night before has already been quite the mile stone, what has happened _today_ is even more of a leap.

Victor replays it again and again and again and again in his mind - he just cannot help himself.

After skating with Yuuko at the rink and pondering both her words and his approach to a potential skating program that caters to Yuuri’s impressive stamina on the ice and his excellent knack for step sequences and spins, Victor had realised that he’d actually been at the ice rink for hours. So he’d taken off his skates, cleaned them and gone back to Yu-topia, perfectly in time for lunch.

With Maccachin nowhere to be found, Victor had made his way into the sitting room, stomach grumbling impatiently at the delicious whiff of steamed dumplings wafting in from the kitchen. However, the thoughts of food were instantly blown from his mind when Victor had stepped into the room, only to be confronted with a very distressed and panicky Yuuri, sloppily dressed into slacks and a shirt several sizes too large for him, awkwardly pacing the space behind the big dinner table. 

At Victor approaching him, Yuuri had turned towards him and, with a relief on his face so strong that it had bordered on the comical, had thrown himself at him, arms locking around Victor’s shoulders and spine, shaking like a leave.

“ _Victor_ ,” he’d whispered and Victor could practically feel the weight lifting from Yuuri’s mind when he’d hugged him back.

“I thought you might have left, I…” Yuuri had mumbled into the crook of his neck, and Victor had gathered him closer, his own arms tight around Yuuri’s smaller frame.

“No, I’d never be so careless, I promise you,” he’d whispered back, heart beating so fast in his chest he’d been afraid to inflict even more bruises on Yuuri’s fair skin where they were pressed together from chests to thighs. 

“I promise you, Лапочка,” Victor had whispered - and meant it.

***

The evening they are planning to attend the festival is also the evening the Onsen will be closing earlier. Yuuri’s whole family will be decking themselves out in traditional yukata, elaborate fans, geta sandals and those big sashes around their waists that Victor learns are called ‘obi’. 

Victor has spent his morning with Yuuri at the gym, before he’s left him there to return to the ice rink to finally start choreographing. When prodded Yuuri has told him he’d leave it to Victor to choose the music because it has always been his coach who had chosen for him.

“But you could choose your own, Yuuri, choose what you like,” Victor had tried to reason but Yuuri had stubbornly shaken his head. 

“A coach knows what’s best for their student and chooses accordingly,” he’d answered before colouring attractively and Victor hadn’t found it in him to argue with that. 

So he’d returned to the rink, found himself a spreadsheet and a pen and had started to list components to form into a program. Since Yuuri’s jump skills are still underdeveloped and it is customary to change running programs while actually running or rather skating them, Victor has formed a basis consisting of 12 different parts that they can adjust and upgrade once the qualifying has started. Yuuri is perfectly able to land a quad toe loop and so Victor will make use of that while simultaneously concentrating on Yuuri’s well-developed, unique step sequence and his fine-tuned spin technic. After all, it is no shame to win with a high presentation score. Skaters usually put all their effort onto the technic score but what use is a good technic if the presentation is wooden and unemotional. Presentation is where Yuuri will sell and if this is what Yuuri feels most confident doing and what will get them ahead and in the game, this is what they’ll do. 

The music is another thing altogether. Victor browses his considerably large classic knowledge and his inconsiderably less large pop music knowledge but he cannot really come up with something. He’s decided at the very beginning of their work together that he imagines Yuuri’s performance to be full of deep emotion and wild seduction and still thinks that’s the best option to go with. Whether it will be blatant sexual seduction or more of a captivating romantic dance remains to be seen. Yuuri is massively talented but so shortly after they’ve started working together Victor is still loath to admit that he doesn’t know Yuuri enough by now to fully form a suitable performance for him.

And that’s only the short program.

However, Victor is proud of what he’s designed for Yuuri so far. He’s determined _and_ a world-renowned rock star skater, he is a living legend and there is nothing that he wouldn’t do to make Yuuri finally see his own beautiful soul and what a marvellous skater he can be.

Feeling both inspired and as if not even gravity can drag him down today, Victor skates on his determination and endorphin high well into the afternoon, and when he comes back to Yu-topia, it’s nearly time to leave for the festival. 

***

The yukata and obi laid out on his futon are easily the most beautiful garments Victor has ever seen, and he silently mourns the fact that they are too unhandy and long to skate in. Under his fingers the velvety fabric undulates in soft waves of purple, cream and gold, embellished and made all mysterious with the black and dark blue obi. It wows Victor tremendously and when he leans down to inspect the wooden geta sandals, he finds the same golden hue worked into in their straps; a hue that for sure with make him look celestial with his ice blue eyes and silver hair. Briefly he wonders whether Japanese men really wear something _that_ flashy and ostentatious but then he shrugs and starts to undress.

Halfway through the process of shedding his slacks and donning the gown there is a knock on the door.

“Victor,” Yuuri’s voice streams through the paper partition. “My mother has laid out clothes for you to wear to the festival but please don’t feel pushed into wearing them. It’s just she’s…” Yuuri trails off and the shadow Victor can make out through the door bows his head in consternation. 

Victor pauses with the yukata in hand, and slipping it over his shoulders he says, “It’s beautiful, Yuuri, what colours is yours?”

“Ehm… Blue, gold and black?” Yuuri answers and it sounds like a question. “Why, what’s yours?”

“Come in,” Victor tells him and closes the front parts of the garment so he doesn’t flash Yuuri unnecessarily. 

After all, whatever this is between them, it’s very, very tentative.

Since Yuuri has hugged him the day before there is some sort of a new awareness between them. It’s promisingly sweet and tender, and if Victor were the one to decide, he’d have it continue infinitely. The way Yuuri had sat next to him during breakfast that morning, how he’s stayed close on their slow walk to the gym, how he’s let Victor touch him and adjust his stance on the balance beam, careful not to rest too much weight on his injured ankle. He had still flushed and gone all skittish and shy but how he had looked at Victor when he thought Victor wasn’t paying attention has made Victor wonder if maybe Yuuri too has felt the spark flaring between them. 

Well, Victor muses, Yuuri hasn’t instigated another hug yet and he was careful not to touch Victor unnecessarily outside their workout but still, he’s allowed Victor closer instead of flinching away like he used to, has blossomed under Victor’s hands and leaned into his touch, eyes all wide and bright and the colour of warm chocolate. 

The soothing sound of well-waxed wood on wood announces Yuuri’s entry to Victor’s room and while a part of Victor wants to let the yukata slip over one shoulder to reveal pale and flawless skin only to see whether it dazzles Yuuri accordingly, another, more considerate part of him makes him adjust the garment around his waist and nod towards the bed where his obi lies. 

“Maybe you can help me with… Oh my god, Yuuri, you’re beautiful.”

They stare at each other and this time it’s Victor whose cheeks colour first. Yuuri indeed looks very handsome and daring in his blue-black yukata, blue rimmed glasses, artfully tousled hair and golden obi, and Victor privately gloats at the fact that the golden hue in Yuuri’s outfit not only compliments his complexion and hair but also happens to be the very same Victor’s outfit is sporting. Briefly he wonders what exactly Yuuri’s mother had been thinking when she laid out the garments but he brushes the thought aside and instead beckons Yuuri closer.

“Help me with the obi, yes? Do I look okay in this?” he asks and Yuuri blinks before he stumbles into action. 

“Yes, you look… Victor, you look…” For some reason he cannot seem to come up with an appropriate description, and Victor mockingly lets his face fall into a horrified frown. 

“Is it really that bad?” he mock-whines and turns his back to Yuuri. Canting his hips and sticking out his butt a bit he looks over his shoulder to where Yuuri is still rooted to the spot. “I even took off my underwear so it doesn’t form ugly lines under the yukata…”

“Victor…” Yuuri winces and the flush that rapidly darkens his face goes all the way down into the v the yukata is forming at his throat. Briefly, Victor wonders how far down it actually extends.

“You can’t… you don’t… why… _Victor_ …”

“Relax, Yuuri, nothing to worry about,” Victor says and waves his hand dismissively, deliberately vague about whether he’s just trying to make fun of Yuuri or whether he’s really shed his briefs and intends to walk around starkers under the cloth that is yukata and obi. 

He points at the latter still lying on the bed. “Help me with this?”

***

They get totally tangled up in the Victor’s obi and have to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the hallway to try and figure out how Yuuri’s father has tied the one Yuuri is sporting. Victor has never worn an obi before, no less tied one but a quick search on google provides them with the fact that, depending on the occasion, the person wearing the obi and the meaning the knot is supposed to convey, it can be tied in a dozen different ways at the very least.

Victor’s hair is messy from where he’s brushed it out of his face so many time, head lowered to observe Yuuri circling him with meters and meters of blue-black fabric. Victor even nestles at the knot of Yuuri’s own obi to see how it’s tied but it is all to no avail. Of course, being a foreigner, Victor could just have Yuuri tie it loosely around his waist and be done with it but, stubbornness notwithstanding, Yuuri is adamant about the fact that it is a sacrilege to go out to a traditional Japanese festival with an obi tied the wrong way. 

So he keeps on circling Victor while they giggle and crack up like school boys, Yuuri’s hands repeatedly brushing Victor’s waist, the small of his back, his belly, and while, at the beginning of their endeavour, Yuuri has apologised every time he tugged at Victor and thus unbalanced him, he’s only laughing now every time he fails to properly tie Victor up. His voice is warm and happy, his hands sure and dextrous, though obviously not acquainted with something as elaborate as traditional Japanese wrapping cloth, and Victor privately loves the feeling of Yuuri’s nimble fingers and smooth palms on his body. 

Yuuri smells of sandal wood shampoo and something that is uniquely him, something crisp like ice and sweet and fuzzy like lemonade. It makes Victor feel heady and happy, and despite his anticipation concerning the Japanese fireworks he finds himself secretly wishing that they would never leave the house and spend the evening futilely trying to tie his obi.

“Boys, what are you…?” Yuuri’s mother asks at some point. “Oh, this isn’t how you tie an obi, do you need help?” She steps closer in her brown and green yukata with a mountains-and-forest-pattern and, abruptly, drags in a deep breath of air. 

“Yuuri,” she exclaims, incredulous, “What has your father done with your obi? He’s tied it like a girls`!” and Victor laughs so hard his eyes are full of tears.

***

Walking in geta sandals with their two crosswise wooden blocks under the sole of the shoe is challenging but Victor soon gets the hang of it. At first, though, he is wobbling precariously when he slips them on, and it’s only due to Yuuri’s quick reflexes that he doesn’t tumble onto his butt when he miscalculates the exact position of the backmost block under his right foot. 

However, Victor decides that getting tangled up in Yuuri’s arms after getting tangled up in an obi together is totally worth the whole fiasco. Especially since Yuuri’s warm-chocolate eyes go all wide and he is sporting that adorable flush again when he gently lowers Victor to the floor after he’s caught him around the waists and shoulders. Victor’s face is burning and, briefly, he wonders who’s the blushing maiden now.

“You are a never ending chain of surprise, Victor,” Yuuri says when they sit on the floor. His ankle is wrapped up in a bandage but it’s probably more for cosmetic reasons than for the injury’s sake. The bruises have faded to a sickly yellow-and-green pattern and Yuuri obviously feels too ashamed to flash them around. But that’s fine.

Victor is arranging his legs, yukata and sandals to get onto his feet again, when Yuuri adds, “You’ve mastered a quad at first try when you were 16 and yet you don’t have the balance to walk in something as simple as geta?” he teases and Victor is positively shell-shocked because it’s the first time Yuuri does.

“Maybe the triplets can help you figure it out?” Yuuri continues leisurely and laughs when Victor sticks his tongue out at him. 

“Oh, you wait,” he retorts as he comes back into an upright position, and Yuuri reaches out a hand to hoist him back onto his feet. “I’ll make you dance the казачок, and then we’ll get to see who’s got _real_ balance.“

Well, Victor muses, as he makes another attempt at walking and finds out it’s actually easier than he thought - it’s all about doing small steps instead of his normal giant strides after all - he’s actually already acquainted with Yuuri’s impressive balance skills and the image of Yuuri wearing geta and a yukata while mounting the pole and flex his legs makes him smile guiltily. 

*** 

The festival is like nothing Victor has ever seen before, and he’s determined to make Yuuri show and explain to him everything there is to see. 

Selflessly and with great indulgence Yuuri does.

To Victor’s dismay they have to leave Maccachin behind but Victor vows to make it up to him with extra long walks at the beach and as many driftwood sticks as he can possibly find and throw.

It seems like the whole town is attending the event tonight, and everybody is adorned with yukata, geta and a perfectly tended obi. When he points that out to Yuuri, Yuuri nods self-contentedly, a somehow mischievous smile on his face that throws Victor for another loop, because this playful and attentive side of him is new. And as the evening progresses Victor finds this is just how he likes Yuuri best; soft and smiling and mellow… and happy.

“My,” Yuuko says, when they meet her, her husband Takeshi and their girls at the main shrine that every one attending the festival inevitable seems to drift towards at least once that evening to pay their respect to. “Don’t you two cut a dashing pair. Is that the same gold?”

Again it’s Victor’s face that flushes first and he’s glad that Minako chooses that exact moment to make an appearance and impatiently demand beer and something she calls hashimaki.

***

Food wise they are having a field day and don’t give the slightest damn about their diet. Yuuri is an amazing guide, takes him wherever Victor wants to go and roam, and patiently explains every dish, beverage, deity and game to him. And there is just so much to see. Victor is all fingers and thumbs at  
金魚掬い, goldfish scooping, and his poi gets kaput all the time. Yuuri tries to teach him how to do it but it’s all to no avail. In the end, when Yuuri has caught seven goldfish and Victor has caught none, the booth owner presents him with a single small goldfish in a plastic bag because he’s obviously feeling pity for him. Victor grins widely, and tucking the bag under his arm while Yuuri gets his own fish bagged, they amble on. 

Most people seem to recognise them immediately but with Victor’s hair colour and height it’s not exactly a surprise. At first Yuuri is bashful but Victor takes it all in stride. There is no press harassing them; it’s just normal, polite folk and the three times someone asks for a picture, Victor puts on his professional smile and on they go. 

Yuuri is very easy to talk to, even outside of the ice rink, and so they talk about everything and nothing, and at some point Victor makes it his private game to make Yuuri laugh as many times as possible. Because Yuuri laughing is beautiful and utterly captivating and every time he does Victor’s heart flutters madly and he gets warm all over. It’s a bit sad, Victor muses, that this isn’t a date, because, seriously, wouldn’t it be _one hell_ of a date? The moon is beautiful, they are far away enough from big cities as to be able to see the stars come out, the air smells of food, smoke and sakura blossoms, and the companion by his side is dazzling and warm, mellow and simply delectable in his yukata. Victor wonders whether Yuuri actually knows just _how_ much he’s dazzling him. 

At some point Victor is struck by the urge to just give in to his daydream and take Yuuri’s hand to hold it in his. Slowly he reaches out… and grabs the cord of his obi instead. The disappointment he feels immediately at the poor substitute goes all the way down to curdle in his guts.

“You look hungry,” Minako tells him dryly at some point and the sly smile that spreads on her face tells him she isn’t talking about food at all. Yuuri, completely oblivious to the silent conversation they are having with glances only afterwards but ever the attentive host, springs into action. He buys Victor takoyaki, and Minako laughs so much she’s banging the table in front of her with her fist and orders them all a round of warm sake. 

*** 

“This is so amazing, Yuuri,” Victor tells him as they amble towards the shrine again, a small bag of Japanese sweets in hand that they are sharing between them. “In Russia we don’t have anything like this.”

“But you must have traditional festivals,” Yuuri contradicts and scrunches his nose prettily. “Where else would you dance the Казачок? I would like to see that once, see the men with their beards in their folk uniforms dance with the women to… what is that song called? ‘Katyusha’?”

“Ah, you googled it, haven’t you?” Victor says fondly.

When Yuuri nods and smiles, Victor cannot help himself anymore and throws an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. The need to touch that fascinating creature meandering next to him in the lights of a hundred burning torches by the side of the path is just too much for him. Briefly, Yuuri tenses as if caught by surprise but when he leans into Victor’s half-embrace, Victor feels like his heart is soaring up to the beautiful night sky to dance among the stars.

“Then I’ll take you to St. Petersburg and show them to you,” he vows and smiles. “I have a flat there we could stay at, you’ll like it. But before we go we’ll brush up your skating, so you’ll have to be patient for another few months.”

The way Yuuri displays a whole wide range of emotions that flit across his face only to settle on something like soft joy and excitement is breath-taking to watch. He doesn’t exactly know why Yuuri lights up so much at his words but Victor loves that he does, and if it weren’t for Yuuko calling them towards the shrine to get their respective fireworks, Victor might have cracked and given in, gather Yuuri in a full embrace and lean down to kiss him.

*** 

Victor knows he’s doing a poor job of hiding the looks he’s throwing Yuuri when the other isn’t looking. Thankfully, Yuuko and Takeshi are currently helping their children with the fireworks, and even Minako holds a string of tiny red cylinders in her hands and tries to light them. Even though the sour look on her face tells Victor she’d probably rather claps another beer instead.

“I have seen fireworks in the sky,” Victor says as he steps closer to Yuuri. “But I didn’t know it was safe to hold them in your hand and then light them.” 

“I think it’s fine, this is how we do it,” Yuuri answers and, pressing one of the fireworks strings into Victor’s hand, takes a swig of his beer before he makes to put it aside. 

Even though they did indulge in drinks - sake and beer - Victor doesn’t feel drunk at all. He’s pleasantly buzzed, but, being Russian and a highly sought-after attender of post-competition parties, he knows he can hold his liquor pretty well. The way Yuuri sways a bit on his feet when he gets up from putting the beer can on the floor suggests Yuuri doesn’t, and Victor has to grab his arm and steady him. 

Yuuri giggles and puts one hand onto Victor’s hip to gain back his balance. He lifts his head - and suddenly they are standing just so close. Yuuri’s body is a warm weight against his, and where their skin touches at Yuuri’s elbow, whose yukata sleeve has been rucked up to help safely manage the fireworks, Victor’s skin tingles as if energized. With an intense gaze in his warm-chocolate eyes Yuuri is staring upwards into Victor’s face. Slowly these eyes make their way from his throat over his chin and jaw only to finally reach Victor’s lips, where they get stuck, and the only thing Victor can do is stare back down at him.

It’s not exactly clear how much time passes but just as it comes to Victor in what a delicate position full of sweet potentialities they are obviously stalemated, the tip of Yuuri’s pink tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lips, and Victor is utterly lost in the spark between them. 

And _this time_ Yuuri seems to feel it, too. 

Victor’s gaze tumbles to Yuuri’s mouth, and suddenly the only thing he wants is to lean in and capture those sweet lips where they so readily hover before his, so easy to claim. Kiss them raw and have his way with them. He wants to press his tongue against Yuuri’s, lick into his mouth while his hands roam across Yuuri’s sides and back and shoulders. He wants to hold him close, cage him in his arms, whisper sweet endearments into Yuuri’s ears and see how he reacts. He wants to hear Yuuri sigh and feel him melt at his touch as Victor kisses the space behind his ear before he works his way down Yuuri’s throat to neck and clavicles. 

He wants to grab and cling to the spark between then, lock it away so they can rekindle it whenever the notion strikes. Tend to it so it will never be taken from Victor. 

So Victor can keep it forever and set them both on fire.

Slowly Yuuri’s eyes shut and reopen again, the spark between them flares into a roaring bonfire, and Victor wants and he wants and he _wants_.

It’s a curious thing, this spark between them and Victor doesn’t know _why_ that thought comes to him _now_ but he really hasn’t felt a spark with someone or something else than figure skating in a very long time. In fact, he’s started to wonder if the ice he’s skated on all his life and sold his soul to has permanently numbed his ability to find interest in something or someone else. That or simply frozen his heart. 

Ever since he’s come to Japan Victor has had the feeling that something has changed, something he hadn’t been quite able to put a finger on. Now, however, as he looks down into Yuuri’s warm-chocolate eyes and where they look up back to him, it suddenly comes to Victor that it might just be his focus that’s changed. Changed from seeing only himself, being his own man and responsible for no one but himself. Renowned, untouchable though lonely at the top, but too full of himself, his own legend and misery to really notice what exactly it is he’s lacking and how he could change all that. Had he been a bit more aware, he’d have noticed on the rink the day before when he’d thought about what Yuuri wants him to do and what Victor himself should be to him. 

Victor knows he has studiously neglected life and love for over 20 years now and has dedicated all his self to skating. So maybe, he thinks as his hand glides upwards to slowly tangle into Yuuri’s soft dark hair at the nape of his neck, it’s time for getting the first back and finally discovering the latter.

Just as he’s gearing up to lean in and finally close the gap between them, Yuuri stirs in his arms and something in his eyes changes and shuts down. He’s decidedly more inebriated that Victor but he’s not drunk, and something must have clicked inside him that now makes him shake his head.

“No…”, he whispers, eyes wide and genuinely fearful, and the way his face scrunches up makes him look like he’s in great pain. “No, this… I can’t do this… to you, it’s not right… this is not a game,” he whispers, and to Victor’s utmost horror, Yuuri slowly but firmly pushes him away and leaves the save circle Victor’s arms have created around him. He’s shaking all over, breathing elevated as he regards Victor but then he sets his jaw and, stubbornly, unmistakably, takes another step back.

It feels like there is an insurmountable chasm opening between them, but Victor is frozen and in shock and unable to move. 

“Yuuri... I…” he hears himself saying but then no more words come out.

His mind, meanwhile, is positively racing.

 _What can’t you do to me_ , he wants to say, _you’ve already done it to me, first at the banquet and now here, and what game are you talking about_ , but he finds the actual words elusive. Briefly, he wonders whether he’s thrown Yuuri for a loop or has read him wrong, because why would Yuuri duck away now as if burned when it has felt so natural when they’ve touched, now and before at the banquet? They’ve danced and laughed and skated and - no matter Yuuri’s shyer side that’s his _real one_ and the shameless dancer Victor has been attracted to at first that _isn't_ \- it’s _this, this_ moment when he’s held Yuuri in his arms and has been held by Yuuri as well that has just felt like the natural culmination of what has started to haunt Victor all these months ago. 

He feels gravity rushing in on him, trying to squash him into the ground.

At first he’s been captivated and drowned in lust by the sensual dancer before he’s met the shy and pensive skater with the warm-chocolate eyes and the beautiful smile. The skater that may be so different from the dancer and yet has enchanted him like no one else ever has before - and that has never given any indication as to how he knows of the other and what he’s done with Victor at the banquet…

It hits Victor like a train in full speed as he watches Yuuri back further away from him and shake his head that it could just be his luck and Yuuri _doesn't_ actually remember the banquet, the pole-dance competition and how they had danced together. After all, he’d been unbelievably wasted and has never at all alluded once at that particular history they share. Maybe Yuuri really doesn’t remember it at all, and the more Victor thinks about it as Yuuri turns around to pick up the tied fireworks’ cylinders and join the others, the more he’s sure that the shy and pensive skater would actually be too mortified about what the shameless dancer had done to pretend he couldn’t remember. 

Yuuri is not pretending. He may be a talented skater but from what Victor has seen he’s a terrible actor - that much is clear.

So Yuuri obviously cannot remember the banquet and probably also doesn’t know he’s asked Victor to be his coach. To him it must feel like Victor just turned up at Yu-topia and bullied him into becoming his student because of whatever ulterior motive Yuuri thinks Victor has. 

That changes everything, and with a feeling of utter defeat Victor takes one final look at Yuuri and where he stands just out of reach with his wide eyes, pale face and heaving chest before he can’t stand it a second longer. 

“Okay,” Victor breathes, numb.

Then he turns and walks away.

Amidst the smoke and laughter and flickering lights of the fireworks no one notices Victor slink away and disappear, and if Yuuri does, it doesn’t matter because Yuuri doesn’t follow him to explain and Victor’s heart feels like it’s been crushed and moulded into the ice that’s all he has in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: Лапочка - Lapochka, diminutive of лапа - lapa, means ‘little paw’
> 
> Казачок - Kozachok or Kasatschok, Russian folk dance, the one with the legs^^ 
> 
> hashimaki - okonomiyaki on skewers, savory pancake containing a variety of ingredience, based on cabbage, eggs, mayonnaise, fried, originally from the Kanto region but nowadays known all over Japan
> 
> 金魚掬い - kingyo sukui, goldfish scooping
> 
> poi - scoop for catching goldfish, a small round ‘spoon’ paned with paper
> 
> takoyaki - small, wheat-flour based snacks with squid inside and bonito flakes, fish flakes, on top, often served with mayonnaise, they are cooked in a special moulded pan to achieve their round form


	3. Pick up the Pieces...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: The title of that chapter is inspired by the song “Pick it up” by Paul Weller. The titles to this chapter and the next actually belong together.

The day after the festival is bleak and grey and basically horrible, and while Victor is finally able to get Chris on the phone, at first the other man doesn’t really seem to grasp how dire the situation actually is.

Victor is at the beach with Maccachin the morning after the disastrous festival, the poodle warm by his side as they sit on the rocks by the water side. Maccachin’s head is in Victor’s lab and his eyes are just so sad where they look at up at him, Victor feels it nearly impossible not to cry. 

But he doesn’t, he just hugs Maccachin close, ruffles his fur and grips his collar when his call is finally put through to Chris.

“Hey Victor,” Chris barks into the phone. “So good to finally hear from you, I was just starting to think you’ve gotten lost in that small town of yours.”

It’s typically Chris to make snide remarks about what’s bothering him but Victor relishes in the voice of his friend nonetheless. He smiles into his phone and Chris, oblivious to Victor’s heartache, barrels on teasingly. “Or maybe you got lost in Katsuki’s pants, or he in yours? Did you find what you were looking for?”

Chris’ laugh is lewd but good-natured but when Victor doesn’t join in his enthusiasm, Chris proves to be a true friend and cottons on immediately. He’s ostentatiously lewd cottoning on but still.

“Victor, what’s having your knickers in a twist?”

Victor chuckles mirthlessly. “Chris, it is not like that. It’s…” The rest of the words are somehow lost to the wind around him and the rolling of the ocean waves, and for a moment Victor considers just changing the topic and make Chris talk about either his boyfriend or Swiss chocolate. Chris is a huge fan of both. Preferably together.

“I might have screwed it all up,” Victor concedes in the end and Chris drops the lewd act in favour of sympathy and brotherly compassion. 

“Tell me what happened, Victor,” he says.

And Victor does. 

*** 

It’s a long talk they have on the telephone. Probably the longest they’ve ever had but if Victor wouldn’t have it with Chris, he’d not have it at all. In fact, he simply has no one else he trusts enough. And he’s just so glad Chris is listening. The only other halfway decent option would be to speak to…

“Yakov, have you talked to him?” 

“No,” Victor answers, and while Yakov is probably the one closest to him, Victor would be downright mortified to have this particular discussion with his coach. Or former coach? Now, this is a whole different matter. Pressing somehow, yes, and interchangeably tangled into what he’s flown to Japan for but Victor has more urgent business on his mind now and cannot be distracted. 

Thankfully, Chris can take a hint.

“So,” he says, once Victor has told him about how he’s accosted Yuuri and told him he’d be coaching him from now on. How much progress Yuuri has actually made, how different he is from the man Victor has danced with at the banquet but how much Victor is actually enchanted by that side of him, and, after Chris has also proved to be quite the remarkable detective, how they’ve nearly kissed at the festival and how Yuuri has pulled away. “You’re telling me he doesn’t remember that he’s challenged me to a pole dance-off and lost?”

Victor chuckles weakly. “I don’t think he lost, Chris.” He can practically hear Chris roll his eyes at the other side of the world.

“Darling, he lost, trust me. You may have been too busy ogling his butt to notice and I may be inclined to admit he’s cut quite a good figure but no one beats me at the pole. It’s my instrument of choice.”

It’s actually quite the compliment from Chris to say that, and Victor cracks a small smile. In his lap Maccachin whines and Victor pats his fuzzy ears again. 

“Does he remember nothing at all? What about dancing with you, Victor? Have you asked him?”

“I haven’t, it didn’t come up before he stepped away and practically fled.” Victor sighs because this is all just a complicated mess. When he tells Chris, the other sighs in sympathy. 

“Love always is, Victor, and then you either figure it out or you move on… And no, don’t blink your pretty blue eyes at me now, darling, I can practically hear you doing it. You’ve been a goner over Katsuki the moment he took you to the dance floor.”

“But he doesn’t remember, Chris,” Victor exclaims and exasperatedly rakes a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t remember we have that history and what’s more he doesn’t remember asking me to be his coach. So to him it must seem as if I’ve come to Japan after I saw his video because I was… I don’t know… bored with my own life or whatever reason he thinks I have, and not because it was just the opportunity and excuse for me to see him again, to... I don’t know… He must think I am insane and have ulterior motives.”

“Then tell him you don’t,” Chris concludes, and just as Victor wants to roll his eyes even though Chris cannot see it, another thought strikes him and he freezes in horror.

“Oh my god, what if he thinks he’s entitled to somehow pay me for my time here? What if he thinks he’s convenient and I am expecting him to… to…” 

The thought is indeed horrifying and, abruptly, Victor feels panicky and has trouble breathing. 

“Oh, Victor, don’t be such a drama queen,” Chris tells him off. “Surely you haven’t given him the impression you were only there for a convenient shag. Which isn’t so absolutely convenient at all, it’s fucking 8000 kilometres away. Katsuki can never be that thick. So calm down!”

It dawns upon Victor that Chris might indeed be right and he’s just losing it. After all, he’s pants at handling emotional situations, even his own. So, after a few deep breaths where he silently berates himself, he’s calm enough to rise another sore spot.

“Still, he doesn’t really trust me and why would he anyway? I am the reigning champion, and I’ve practically scared him into letting me coach him, and I don’t really have the faintest idea how to do that. I don’t know what he needs. He’s unbelievably talented but something holds him back and I cannot suss it out, and no one tells me what it is, least of all him.”

On the other side of the world Chris sighs. “Victor, I know you’re frustrated, I really do, but could it be that you are maybe trying to vent your own crisis through Katsuki?” 

When Victor starts to protest, Chris talks over him. 

“No, darling, I _know_ you’re having a crisis, I have _seen_ it and frankly I was just wondering when you’d see it yourself. But, Victor, usually it isn’t like you wake up one morning, step off the ice and find a new lifeline. But,” he sights and Victor imagines him shaking his head. “Be that as it may, you are quite the romantic at heart, don’t deny it. Still, you’re making this very hard for yourself, don’t you? So now you’ve decided Katsuki is your vent and makes you happy, and if he truly does, then it’s all fine. So, you should ask yourself the question: What is it that you want? Do you want to coach him, then for heaven’s sake coach him and see how far he progresses. If you want to bed him to be yourself again and then walk away, go for it.”

At this point Victor starts to protest again but Chris just recklessly continues talking over him. “If you _don't_ want to walk away, then don’t walk away, but just make up your fucking mind. Do you know the saying ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’? Make up that stubborn mind of yours and then see it through, darling. It would be a shame to lose the best figure skater in the world to a depression or because he cannot make a damn decision and loses it before I’ve beaten him to the gold. Him or this… this student of his if needs be.”

Victor is silent for a moment before he blurts, “He does make me happy and I don’t just want to bed him, I want to…” _protect him_. He sighs because the last though is something he really cannot tell Chris without being totally embarrassed about how right Chris actually appears to be and how weird the whole situation is. However, a moment later he hears Chris hum thoughtfully, and so Victor adds, “You know it’s only up to yourself whether or not you beat me to the gold.”

“Ah,” Chris says and, abruptly, he isn’t the therapist anymore but the carefree, easy and flirty friend. “I’ll make you kiss my medal, darling, you just wait.”

Laughing, Victor says, “I don’t want to kiss it unless it’s gold. You know that.”

After that they fool around a bit and Victor is thankful and feels decidedly better despite his bleak situation and the heartbreak he’s suffered. 

“It’s already late between the seasons,” Chris is saying afterwards and his tone tells Victor that they are getting into deeper waters again. “Either return to Russia and prepare for the next season or compose a fitting program and stick with Katsuki.” Chris sighs and his voice goes soft. “Either way, you need to decide what you want to do, Victor, and you need to decide it soon. It will all be water under the bridge if you stay in Japan and Katsuki makes it big onto the podium. If you believe Katsuki can do it, stick with him and enjoy the change. You can always come back next season. But if it’s too much for you or it doesn’t feel right, then call Yakov and go back home.” Chris hums into the phone, so there must be something else he wants to say. “Maybe you should call Yakov in any event. He’s probably got it from Instagram that you’re in Japan now and what you’re doing there. Or did you tell him before you left?”

“No, I didn’t tell him, I was being very impulsive when I left, Chris. It was an opportunity, I was…”

“I know,” Chris says, “I can imagine. But, Victor, you are my friend and you are a good person, and let us just pretend for a minute that what I am saying isn’t atrociously cheesy at all but, seriously, you don’t seem all right and maybe you do need a change after all that fucking gold you’ve won. I’d say you haven’t been yourself in quite a while, Victor. So if Katsuki is what you want, what makes you happy, then don’t give up just yet. Give yourself another chance and go for him.“ Gearing up Chris hums again and says, “Maybe it’s all just a misunderstanding, maybe he’s just shy. Seriously, you’ve only been there for three weeks, how can you know Katsuki by now and how is he supposed to know you? You’ve danced at a party and he was stinking drunk. This isn’t exactly the best way to start off serious things. If he’s skittish now give him more time to get to know the real Victor. Because, seriously,” and here Chris’ voice turns flirty again and Victor loves him for it, “You’re gorgeous, and if it turns out he really doesn’t want you, go find someone who does.”

“I am not sure it is that easy, Chris,” Victor answers but Chris doesn’t let himself be deterred in his enthusiasm. 

“Then tell me, Victor,” he demands and the curiosity in his voice is more than audible. “I am curious. No matter the slight… derailment you’re experiencing: Is Katsuki worth trying? Is he any good?”

Victor’s smile is gentle as he buries his hand lovingly into Maccachin’s fur and answers, “He’s even better.”

“Then don’t let your hair go all grey over him and just figure out what you want and if he wants the same, professionally or beyond. And have more fucking patience, darling,” Chris advises with a laugh. Victor snorts because of the jab but promises to call him again when there are new developments.

*** 

Yuuri hadn’t been in his room when Victor had left for the beach this morning but he also isn’t at the rink when Victor gets there after taking Maccachin back to Yu-opia and handing him over into Mari’s care. Briefly, jealousy flares up in him at the fact that his best friend in the world actually has such a soft spot for someone else, but then he notices Mari scrutinize him, and Victor flees before she can ask him about last night.

Victor had walked aimlessly the night before, deeply buried inside his own head and replaying the pictures of how Yuuri had stepped away from him over and over again. 

Chris is right; he truly is quite the goner on Yuuri - much more so than he’s initially thought if the way his heart is hurting is anything to go by.

However, Victor isn’t totally naïve and maybe Chris is right and a bit more patience and less impulsiveness would do him worlds of good. 

He’s had flings before, romantic entanglements, mostly during competitions and the last Olympics in Sotchi two years ago. As flings go, there was one that lasted a bit longer. In Sotchi there had been one girl he’d been quite smitten with and they had promised to try and make it work afterwards. 

It didn’t.

The fact that she was a skeleton skier from the US who got hurt in her last run hadn’t exactly been favourable for a steady relationship. That and the distance. After her accident it had taken her months to recover and both have lost their patience with each other more than once on the phone before she’d cried and told him to just let her be. And so Victor had suffered his first heartache. But he had brushed it off and kept going and told himself skating was all he’d ever need. He skated and won gold medals and kept to meaningless encounters whenever the notion struck and the opportunity presented itself. 

It appeared he’s been wrong about that being enough to balance him out, because the excitement of skating and winning gold medals waned, and he’s never, _never_ felt anything like he does for Yuuri before, and while he knows he’s never really been in love before and therefore - the US skeleton girl notwithstanding - cannot compare with past experiences, he knows that what he’s feeling for Yuuri is far from a brief and meaningless fling.

The thing is just: What is he supposed to be doing now?

Of course he can try and brush it off, gloss over the fact that his heart is in shards in his chest, and while it has been made fragile and tender over the years with tiny fissures and cracks, last night was just the last clink to make it shatter. Victor ties his skates, steps on the ice and wonders how he hasn’t seen it all before. Hasn’t seen how he’s turned hollow in the years where he’s had two World Records tucked under his belt and no real competitor to dispute him.

The time in Japan with Yuuri, brief as it has been so far, has shown him just how _lonely_ the ice under his feet has become and how rudderless his boat actually is. It’s all been just a meaningless chase from gold medal to gold medal, all thrill and exhilaration, all inspiration gone. Victor knows that many a skater would sell their soul for his career but Victor has sold his to the ice and it doesn’t make him happy anymore. Doesn’t fulfil him anymore. 

The last time he’s been truly happy on the ice was when he was coaching Yuuri, but Victor is hard-pressed to come up with the one _before_ that. 

In a brief fit of dry amusement he wonders what people would say if they knew that about him. He wonders if Yakov knows even though Victor has never told him. Has never told anyone, not even Chris, who has seen it nevertheless. Silently, Victor wonders who else has seen it.

He lets his mind drift back to last night at the festival while he circles the ice, trying to find reassurance in the repetitive movements of the skating he’s done most of his life. Something has stuck with him, something Yuuri had said, something he hadn’t examined before. Yuuri had said this wasn’t a game to him but Victor doesn’t really know what he means. Has he acted in a way that made Yuuri believe he weren’t taking it all serious? Maybe it had felt a bit like a game at the beginning but once Victor had found out that it isn’t just a silly idea - that he isn’t wasting his time evading pressing issues because Yuuri’s potential is real and they can built something beautiful to make him shine - he’s totally devoted his time and talent to compose a program that caters to Yuuri’s advantages and the emotional way he loses himself on the ice. 

Victor may have only been in Japan for roughly three weeks now but he’s an excellent choreograph and the basic ideas are there. He only has to fuse them together, so Yuuri can grow upon them.

It strikes Victor as just his luck that everything - his feelings towards the ice and also his chance at something like happiness he never knew he craved - seems to be so inextricably entangled around Yuuri as the cardinal point.

What a difference these roughly three weeks with Yuuri had made in his life. If Victor really admits it to himself, the true reason he has come to Japan is because he’d lost what has made skating beautiful and worthwhile to him and because he feels like a boat on the ocean and the compass is gone. And while it’s not exactly dreadful to win gold in every competition, it doesn’t hold the potential of surprise anymore that it once did. After his second World Record and the gold medal at the Olympics everybody was basically expecting him to deliver a stunning performance and take home the gold. No matter how elaborate his performance, no matter how much heart’s blood he’s poured into it, no matter how many times he’s reinvented himself, people didn’t notice anymore and the shine of winning another competition and another after that has decidedly worn off. 

Yes, Victor has taken himself off to Japan to coach the underdog, but that’s hardly the kind of surprise he was aiming for. The first program he’s designed in years that he actually feels proud of is the one he’s begun to compose for Yuuri. Because it’s a real challenge like he hasn’t had in years and he’s proud of what he’s done so far.

And once Victor chooses the music and Yuuri owns the program, makes it his own and steps onto the podium to prove it to the world, the ability to surprise will be back again and maybe Victor will feel less lonely and possibly even start pondering options as to what to do after he retires, after the 40-odd years that is the rest of his life begin. Of that he is sure!

But can he really do all this, vulnerable and brittle as he is, now that Yuuri, his lifeline as Chris has to eloquently put it, has declined him and pushed him away? Now that he’s lost all sense of purpose? Can he really pretend nothing has happened and resign himself to coaching Yuuri and make him shine, just like he’s promised himself he’d do? 

But maybe Chris is right and roughly three weeks is indeed too short a time to put a heavy idol crush to rest, get a first impression of the person behind the idol, find that person lacking and shove him away? And what about all the signals Yuuri has sent Victor’s way? Were they directed at Victor Nikiforov, the living legend, or at plain, old and frustrated Victor, who struggles just like everybody else to find a place in life? Should he just heed Chris’s advice, pull himself together and try again? Because it’s undeniable that there indeed _is_ something between him and Yuuri, a spark that has the potential to be on the cusp of turning into a flame. 

It shouldn’t matter what Yuuri does or does not remember because if he doesn’t remember how they’ve danced at the banquet, then everything that has happened between them in the past three weeks and all Yuuri’s progress hadn’t been a result of too much champagne and disappointment and hot pole dance-offs. Then everything, at least to Yuuri, _everything_ Victor had been and done here in Japan in this tiny coastal town at the end of the world had been because Victor had seen Yuuri skate. Had seen the raw talent and soft beauty in that. Had seen his fragile heart and decided to stay. 

After all, Victor has promised Yuuri he’d never be so careless as to just leave and go back to Russia, and while it’s always easy when everything works out fine, this is a promise Victor doesn’t want to have given in vain.

He is still unsure and confused, and it might all fail and crumble and make him call a travel agency to buy a ticket and fly out to St. Petersburg after he’s seen Yuuri again, but as Victor skates and spins and jumps and pours his soul out into the rink, the ice doesn’t turn less lonely and isn’t that in itself answer and motivation enough?

***

To say it is awkward when Victor sees Yuuri again is probably the understatement of the century, because while Yuuri obviously doesn’t remember their encounter at the banquet, he certainly remembers last night. And looks suitably mortified as he steps into the ice castle where Victor is still circling the rink. His face is pale, his eyes are red-rimmed and small behind his glasses and he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink last night. Subdued and hesitantly he steps closer to the barrier around the rink, and if Victor hadn’t noticed these subtler signs, the skates Yuuri carries in his hands instead of on his feet transfer a blatant message. 

“You’re late,” he tells Yuuri and stops within a safe distance to the other man who hovers awkwardly at the sides. 

Yuuri seems caught off guard and blinks a few times. He looks like he wants to say something but then doesn’t. He squirms, lowers his gaze and purses his lips, and while Victor is still heavily confused and unsure, his frustration gets the better of him now.

“If you want to continue our professional collaboration, get onto the ice now.” _If you don’t, then leave and break my heart again_ , he wants to add but hasn’t got the strength. 

Yuuri teeters from one foot to the other, face going even paler by the minute, but before he can make up his mind, come to a decision and act, Victor loses it.

“ _Now, Yuuri!_ ”

He delivers the command like a punch and sees Yuuri shake with the blow, before the other man scrambles over to the bleachers to get into his skates. 

*** 

Victor has a hard time reining himself in and not give in to frustration again, grab Yuuri’s shoulders and shake sense into him. Yuuri is unfocused for the majority of their practise time today but, Victor surmises, the more he lets himself go and show his own frustration to Yuuri, the more the other man will get shaken up and potentially injure himself. It’s not Yuuri’s fault, Victor tries to calm himself, that he cannot remember how they’ve danced, how he’s pressed himself to Victor, spun him around and made him feel so incredibly alive. It’s not his fault that he’s held Victor tight in his arms and, still, Victor fell. 

And evidently has been falling ever since. 

So he lets it go and orders Yuuri to spin and twist and glide along the perimeter of the ice. He doesn’t ask him to perform the quad toe loop today, and Yuuri doesn’t remark on it but seems grateful and relieved. 

All in all they’ve had decidedly better practise sessions but over the course of the afternoon Yuuri tries to gather himself, and the grim determination his face is displaying tells Victor his conviction and he resumes his coaching. 

After all, it could have been much worse, Victor muses as he uncaps a bottle of water and lifts it to his lips. Yuuri could have decided to not show up at all or ask Yuuko to tell Victor he’s had enough and wants him to leave and let him be. Or even worse, Yuuri could have told him himself, because Yuuri might be lacking confidence in himself and his abilities but he decidedly doesn’t lack compassion for the ice, and while he is skittish around the rink and flubs more spins than Victor has ever seen him before, Yuuri still evidently worships and needs the ice he’s skating on. 

The ice that also seems to entail Victor’s presence and so Yuuri pushes on and doesn’t tell him to leave. 

And for that Victor is infinitely grateful and accepts the silent truce. 

*** 

Within a few days after the disastrous festival they’ve found a new routine with each other, albeit a silent and distant one. The only thing they talk about is skating and a potential program that caters to Yuuri’s advantages but Victor feels as if for every baby step forward, these days there are also two backwards steps. 

Victor totally refrains from touching Yuuri; a feat he finds so absolutely against his nature it’s causing him physical pain and leaves him lost on the open ice they skate upon. He’s so used to touch the selected few he likes that he doesn’t know what to do with his hands anymore. So he keeps them safely tucked away into the pockets of his slacks or tightly locked behind his back. He also completely ceases flirting with Yuuri and teasing him and finds that it somehow seeps all the joy out of life. Because Yuuri is still captivating, raw and beautiful and Victor desperately wants to be close to him but at the same time he doesn’t want to make Yuuri uncomfortable. So he oscillates through this weird no-man’s-land of awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from wandering and trying to keep his glances attentively professional, while he waits, lets Yuuri fine-tune his foot work further and ponders potential music choices and an overall-expression for the short program he’s designing. 

Considering the fact that the first notion for a program Victor has had was that of a dance full of wild seduction and deep emotion, because these are the two impressions Victor can tie to the two different sides of the same coin that is Yuuri Katsuki, he decides to stick with that notion. So while Yuuri pirouettes around the rink, face grim and eyes everywhere but on Victor - while they both conspiratorially ignore an obviously very antsy Yuuko who’s hovered around them for a couple days now but doesn’t approach directly - Victor boots up his laptop and plugs in his ear buds. 

*** 

The truce holds and whatever has made Yuuri decide to stick with Victor and not retire and tell him to get his sorry self back to Russia keeps. It’s oddly ironic, Victor thinks, and allows himself a sour smile. Four weeks ago he’d been in St. Petersburg, on top of the world but lonely and lost, one week ago he’s been so happy and content it felt like he was flying and now things have taken a turn for the worst again and decided to go pear-shaped just because Victor has tried to grasp and hold what exactly it is that has made him so happy. It feels like he’s ended up right where he started, and the ice is still a very lonely place. 

Victor watches Yuuri while the other man lands a quad toe loop combination with a double toe loop and hums his approval. Victor is a strict and relentless coach who makes Yuuri do the same things over and over again until they are perfect, and even though they barely communicate verbally, Yuuri seems to have gained back a bit of the bite that the first couple weeks under Victor’s care had instilled in him. It’s not based on joy, mind, everybody can see that, but rather on stubbornness. However, Victor choses to see it as a good sign. 

Yuuri still hasn’t voiced a desire to start learning the more advanced jumps but there is still time. Victor won’t force him, and while he still hasn’t completely given up on his romantic intentions towards Yuuri because this isn’t all over yet, he concedes that - for the sake of his own equilibrium - their professional entanglement comes first. So he doesn’t push Yuuri in any direction but instead gives him time to set his own pace while Victor stubbornly waits for Yuuri to come to terms with whatever it is he’s struggling with.

Because the Yuuri Victor watches perform a step sequence on the ice is not okay. There still is that something he keeps hidden from Victor, and Victor is more than determined to not let him off the hook before he knows.

If anything, Victor silently admits to himself one night in the darkness of his bedroom, his heart demands him to suss out this conundrum that is Yuuri Katsuki and the way Victor has seen him skate his own program, before he even has the slightest chance of being able to let go off the feelings he harbours for the man.

*** 

It’s another week before Victor finally finds the music and, instantly, he is of two minds about it, yet totally captivated. ‘On love: Agape’ and ‘On love: Eros’ is actually one piece with two arrangements, each with a different sub-theme that revolves around one basic theme: love. Victor smiles, because what could be more suitable for Yuuri than love? 

The quality and theme of the music notwithstanding because both pieces are awesome in their own right, he cannot really decided to which of these two themes he wants to let Yuuri skate to. Should he compose a program about the tenderness and innocence of unconditional love that only wants to give and expects nothing in return? Or should he choose to follow a more seductive approach and unleash the wild side he knows Yuuri possesses deep down inside him? A side that the other man isn’t aware of, but a side that, once he fully embraces it, might make Yuuri be able to see himself more clearly and find his confidence. Victor doesn’t know whether Yuuri has any experiences with passionate, sexual love because, apart from this other side of him that only gets dominant when provided with alcohol, Yuuri is not exactly the outgoing, flirty sort of bloke that picks easy hook-ups to cater to the passion that is so clearly inside of him.

What’s more, the Agape-theme stirs something in Victor, clinks to his soul like a tuning fork and lets him resonate. 

Only once in the days after the festival has he felt brave enough to try and corner Yuuri to uncover what is going on in the other man’s head. But he’s still pants at handling emotional situations, and after not being able to either find the right words or properly rein in his frustration, Yuuri had only turned shaky, lowered his gaze and apologized weakly before slinking off to the gym and not reappearing again for two and a half hours. 

That night Victor went to the rink because he couldn’t sleep and had skates his heart out, bared it to the ice and poured all of his longing and loneliness in to the song. Afterwards he’d felt drained but better. Had he skated like this in a competition, it would have definitely been another gold medal but internally Victor only snorts. No medal on this earth, gold or not, is worth the feeling of relief in his chest he’s experiencing after skating to the Agape-theme.

That finally answers the question. If Victor decides to claim the Agape-theme for himself, then it’s clear that Eros will go to Yuuri.

He attempts to discuss the different ideas with Maccachin on an extra-long walk at the beach after dinner, but unfortunately the poodle’s interest is only peaked when Victor raises the driftwood stick and throws it in a wide arch across the sand. It’s been only them again at their daily walk along the beach, and Victor can tell that Maccachin misses Yuuri’s presence. Petting his poodle-ears lovingly, Victor silently lets him know that he misses Yuuri as well, and that only confirms his resolve keeping the more personal Agape to himself and giving Eros to Yuuri.

“Come on, Maccachin,” Victor encourages and watches the poodle bounding across the beach before he falls into a trot beside him and bumps his nose into Victor’s hand. “We’re going back. It’s kitchen scraps for you and hard work for me.”

Maccachin barks as if understanding each and every word and happily leads the way back to Yu-topia.

*** 

At first it looks like things are turning completely pear-shaped again when Victor introduces the Eros-theme and the routine to Yuuri a few days later. Listening to the music and Victor’s explanation about movements, spins and jumps alike Yuuri’s face pales but there are two pink spots that rise on his cheeks. He’s been tenser than was normal within the last fortnight after the festival, and Victor decides to see it as the sign that their precarious stalemate is also grating on Yuuri’s nerves. 

Victor has caught Yuuri looking at him a few times within the last few days, especially after he’s tried to talk to him, but when he indicated, wordlessly, that he was aware and intending to listen should Yuuri finally say something and address this weird situation between them, Yuuri had pressed his lips into a tight line and remained silent. 

So the familiar spark of helpless anger and frustration that comes when Yuuri finally does open his mouth to say something, isn’t exactly a surprise.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Yuuri asks and crosses his arms in front of his chest, his posture the very picture of defensiveness. “Designing a program for me that requires so many different jumps to raise the final score high enough? I thought we’d cater to my needs and abilities and aim for presentation rather than technic.”

“Yes,” Victor argues. “This is a very wise choice because you are a talented skater and need to be able to perform jumps. Your quad toe loop is fine but it alone isn’t enough to beat the other skaters and get the gold. You need to work on that. And you will.”

When Yuuri doesn’t answer, doesn’t even defend himself but instead glares at Victor, chews his lower lip and crosses his arms tighter in front of him, everything in Victor, abruptly, comes crashing down. 

“Don’t you want the gold anymore?” he challenges and glares back at Yuuri in a poor attempt to keep himself in check. But instead of arguing back Yuuri presses his lips together so tight they trun bloodless and averts his gaze like he’s so often done in the past few days. 

And Victor loses it.

“Yuuri, look at me!” he demands and when Yuuri still doesn’t react, he yells, “I am your coach, for god’s sake, and I am telling you this is the program that will see you back on your feet again. You just need to skate it!”

“Why?” Yuuri finally reacts, voice low and full of barely contained emotion. “Why is that so? Because you’re the great Victor Nikiforov and whatever you touch turns to gold? This is my decision, Victor, and I don’t think I am the right skater for that performance.”

Victor feels like he’s been slapped in the face and it proves to be quite a feat to not either flinch or grab Yuuri and shake him to make him see reason. Yuuri’s stubbornness notwithstanding, Victor refuses to just give up now but frustration makes it difficult for him to see straight. After all, is Yuuri truly inclined to throw away all their hard work? Now? No matter Victor’s own feelings, but does Yuuri really not see that, if Victor refuses to give up, Yuuri should follow along and do the same?

Raking a hand through his silver hair and willing Yuuri to just understand he says, “I think you are and if you’d finally swallow that stupid pride of yours and tell me what exactly it is that’s keeping you from learning these jumps and widen your range we could finally start working on the real thing… No,” he adds when Yuuri flinches and stares at him with wide and fearful eyes. Suddenly he looks like a wounded animal too weak to even consider bolting, and Victor is suddenly struck by the notion that maybe the jumps aren’t the cardinal point that all this crisis revolves around. 

But how can he make Yuuri finally confide in him when the stakes are so high and the risk is so great?

Maybe, Victor muses, it’s true what they say: That skater’s hearts _are_ as fragile as glass, and if they are so fragile, then maybe Victor can only crack and finally get to Yuuri if he tries to shatter his into pieces. 

In two weeks Yuuri obviously hasn’t had it in him to decide what he wants to do and whether he wants Victor to go or stay, and in this moment Victor is incessantly frustrated with letting him set his own pace. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Yuuri,” he demands, voice cold, intimidating and brooking no argument. “I know that you are hiding something. What is it you’re hiding? Is it the jumps that’s holding you back? Or something else? You either finally tell me what the hell it is so we can get to work and make you overcome it or you let it cow you and you stay the mediocre skater that you are now. The one that has so many far-fetched dreams and yet never sets out to make it to the top.”

They stare at each other and with a low and threatening voice Victor pulls the last straw.

“Don’t waste my time,” he orders. “Decide.”

Yuuri continues to stare at him and they are once again stalemated. But just as Victor thinks he will never get an answer and it’s all to no avail, Yuuri goes ahead and lowers his head. Abruptly, his shoulders slump and it looks like he’s crumbling into himself, no breath left at last.

Yuuri’s answer catches him totally off guard.

“Then let’s end this, Victor” Yuuri is saying, and his voice is small and fragile. For some reason it sounds like the very definition of defeat and, briefly, Victor wonders whether he has finally broken him or whether this is Yuuri’s last resort. “Let’s end this, so you can go back to Russia and be the greatest skater alive. You don’t exactly need me for that.”

The moment stretches between them and this times it’s not as promisingly sweet as it has been so many times before when there had been some kind of a revelation between them. Instead Victor can feel dread curdling in his stomach and his head snaps up in disbelief.

“ _What_?” he blurts, and in front of him Yuuri shrugs his shoulders. 

“This is my decision,” Yuuri says, voice still small and body drained of all the fight that has been there before. “Go back to Russia, Victor, I don’t… I can’t…” Trailing off he hangs his head, swallows a sob and turns around to skate towards the door of the barrier.

Victor snaps back into action and it’s a decision borne out of weeks’ worth of frustration and generally banging his head into the wall that is Yuuri’s stubborn silence. Before his brain can catch up with his senses he’s snaps into motion, hurls himself over to where Yuuri is attempting to leave the ice, and grabs his hand.

“Don’t do that now, Yuuri, we’ve worked so hard,” he begs and to his surprise his voice isn’t full of anger anymore. Instead it is full of sadness. “I thought you wanted the gold, I thought you wanted it so much,” he adds passionately. “Why are you giving up? Why are you throwing it all away?” _Why are you throwing_ me _away_ , pips up in his mind but Victor shoves the thought as deep down as it will go so it doesn’t accidentally pop out of his mouth.

Yuuri is silent but his shoulders are trembling. Victor tugs at his hand and wills himself to be smart this time, to say the right thing… to make Yuuri stay and explain. 

“Thank you for everything, so much,” Yuuri mumbles, “Thank you for being my coach but it’s better for you if we let this end here.”

Victor is momentarily shell-shocked into silence and the only thing he can do to buy himself time to think it all over and force sense into what he’s heard Yuuri say is to grip his hand even tighter and hold on for dear life. Because what he’s been hearing cannot be right, it cannot be true, and why in hell is he so absolutely inapt at conveying to Yuuri what _all this_ , his escape to Japan and coaching Yuuri means to him? 

He realises his eyes are wet when Yuuri turns around to face him and carefully lifts a hand to brush it through his silver bangs and unstick his hair from his damp cheeks. 

“Victor?” he asks timidly, like he’s broken his best friends’ toy and cannot assess whether he’ll be yelled at, thrown a punch at or simply brushed off because it isn’t such a big deal, because there are more important things in this universe. 

But what _is_ more important to Victor at this point than Yuuri, all the work they have done together and all the things that Victor has planned for Yuuri’s comeback to the ice and his go at the podium? Because Yuuri _has_ the ability, the beauty and stubbornness to win the gold, so why doesn’t he _see_ it?

Victor is totally thrown off track because he has always thought Yuuri selfless and pure, willing and, yes, some kind of a means for Victor to have purpose again. He’s thought that what they had was beautiful.

It seems he’s been mistaken. 

“I am mad,” he says and instantly knows it’s true. “Are you sure _that's_ what you want? This is a surprise. I didn’t expect this from you of all people. So much selfishness.”

“Yes,” Yuuri says. “I am sorry. That’s… I can’t let you… You are not to throw away your career, Victor, so it’s better if you go home now. There is enough time left for you to resume your own course of practise and maybe you can even take a few parts of the program you’ve choreographed, so it won’t all go to waste.”

It is that moment that Victor realises two things. The first is that, if he leaves Yuuri now and goes back to Russia to prepare for another season, it will definitely be his last one. He’s just so tired of it all and has fled to Japan to escape that dreadful feeling of not being able to muster the appropriate mind-set he needs to be not only a great and successful skater, but also a contend and happy one. If he’s sure about only one thing in his life, then it is the fact that he’s been so lonely and miserable at the top of men’s figure skating that he’d happily throw away all his medals and career for just another challenge that really, really excites him. 

The second thing surprisingly _isn't_ that he’s found that challenge in Yuuri Katsuki and has gladly accepted it, but that Yuuri is pushing him away for the sake of the career that Victor doesn’t want anymore. At least not in the same way, shape or form he’s wanted it before. Has wanted it all his life and sold his soul and now finds he cannot afford the price any longer.

It’s all crystal clear, isn’t it? It’s crystal clear, so why hasn’t Victor seen it before? And why hasn’t Yuuri just said so, why did he go and make that decision all alone? 

That last thought, that revelation suddenly makes him so helplessly angry he’s reaching out, gripping Yuuri’s shoulder and shaking him.

“And where is _my_ say in that?” he demands to know and his exasperation pitches his voice higher than it usually is. “You cannot just push me away and decide it’s for my own good. We will create something beautiful, Yuuri, and it’s high time you start trusting me. Don’t you see? I will not leave. I decided to stay in Japan because you’re incredibly talented, you are worth it and you deserve another chance. So let me help you claim it.”

“Victor, I…”

“This is _my_ career and I cannot go on like this, I just cannot. This is my decision and I’m asking you to live with it. Can you do that, Yuuri? Can you?”

“Victor,” Yuuri says again and Victor can actually see how much it takes him to gather himself and finally meet his eyes. “The risk is too high,” he mumbles but, instantly, Victor knows that Yuuri’s argument is weak and he is ready to listen to him. 

Silently, Victor wills himself to find the right words.

“Лапочка,” he says and the endearment drains all the fight and anger out of him. “The risk is always high. But what you need to overcome is that part within yourself that keeps telling you you can’t do it. The part that whispers you will necessarily fail. That you aren’t beautiful, unique and worth it all. Because you are, you just haven’t realised it yet.”

The last sentence comes out choked and low, but just there in front of him he sees Yuuri close his eyes and take a deep breath. Victor instantly knows he’s just given it all he has. From here onwards the final decision is Yuuri’s. And no matter what it is that Yuuri decides now, Victor knows he has to live with it, just like he’s asked Yuuri to live with Victor’s decision. 

They stare at each other for another moment, and when Yuuri’s face abruptly falls and he surges forward and hugs him, the relief is so unfathomably great that Victor’s eyes finally spill over.

“Then promise me you won’t take your eyes off me, Victor, promise me you won’t look away.”

And Victor wraps his arms around Yuuri’s smaller form while his heart beats so loud in his chest he is surprised it doesn’t echo around the room, and answers, “I won’t look away, Лапочка, I promise you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: Вот блин - Vot blin, a Russian curse word for Russians who don’t really curse, literally means  
> ‘pancake’ and is quite harmless and very common, in any case I like to think  
> Victor is not one for cursing and so this is what he comes up with when he’s not  
> properly monitoring what he’s saying
> 
> By the way, I totally forgot to mention that while I don't have the first idea about Russian, I have really wonderful friends who do. So thank you, D, for bearing with me, for listening to my weird descriptions about words I need and, despite everything, actually coming up with just the appropriate words. Your help was gold.


	4. ...and put them together again

They work incredibly hard for the next few days and every night Victor practically tumbles into bed, wan with exhaustion but filled to the brim with so much quiet happiness, this tingling feeling he’s had every time he’s touched Yuuri seems to have been caged to permanently buzz in his chest.

The way Yuuri glides across the ice is beautiful to watch and after they’ve finally decided to move on together, Victor can tell Yuuri is working on his confidence issues with renewed strength. They approach the tentative topic of jumps one step at a time and Victor is reminded of how, at the beginning of their collaboration, he’s thought it will be baby steps that get them ahead. It appears he’s been right about that. But instead of taking two steps back for every step forward like they have done in the couple weeks after the festival, Yuuri proves himself to be a source of infinite surprise and wonderment, and Victor is in complete awe and silently wonders whether it actually is the promise of a gold medal that makes Yuuri spin and dance majestically across the ice, or whether it might be something closer to home. Something perhaps like the promise Victor has made to him, the real one which had been hidden beneath the direct words. 

Victor had _said_ that he wouldn’t take his eyes off Yuuri; which in essence _means_ that Victor wouldn’t walk away and instead believe in him. Maybe even more than Yuuri believes in himself. 

Victor allows himself a private smile.

All these weeks he’s been wondering what to do for Yuuri, what to be and what to provide him with, so they can unlock Yuuri’s full potential, and Victor chides himself again for not being able to see it earlier: While Yuuri loves his family and wants to make them proud, it is in fact Victor’s expertise as a fellow skater and the respect that Yuuri has for him that has the potential to really make him feel proud of himself. Because Victor understands what it’s like to worship the ice, to bare one’s soul to its unforgiving sharpness, to give everything and hide nothing. 

Of course this is nothing Yuuri explicitly says, but he doesn’t have to. The way he looks at Victor when they skate, the way he lights up and blushes when Victor praises him and the way he presses his lips into a tight line and lets his features flood with determination when something doesn’t work out the way they’ve planned are enough for Victor to understand. Victor might be forgetful and impulsive, but he’s not an idiot. 

And once Victor knows, it’s all he needs to sculpture his role as a coach in their companionship. This sense of responsibility and reliability, of commitment, may be new to him but it’s what Yuuri needs to blossom, and while it has taken Victor so much time to finally arrive at that conclusion, he is now determined to truly be the steadfast force that always has Yuuri’s back.

It’s no hardship at all to provide just that and while Yuuri obviously needs Victor to counter-balance the part in him that is always at war with his confidence, Victor finds it oddly comforting that he also needs Yuuri just as much.

Because without him the ice just feels so, so lonely and Victor is truly done with that.

*** 

“God, what exactly do _I_ know about seduction?” Yuuri says one night after practise when they meander home. It’s already dark outside and they have taken their time at the changing rooms at the rink. It’s actually a bit senseless and stupid to change out of their skating slacks and into comfortable sportswear, only to go home and change again, but both of them silently agree that it’s murder on the nerves and health to walk around in their damp and sweaty practise clothes, even in the summer. There is a shower at Hasetsu Ice Castle but they never use it. Secretly, Victor is very happy about the fact that they never do because while, during those two weeks after the festival, Yuuri was always either already done bathing at home or had mysteriously disappeared, they are now sharing the Onsen again and Victor rejoices in the simple pleasures of lounging around naked while he tries to inconspicuously do what Chris has accused him of when they’ve spoken on the phone: He ogles Yuuri’s butt. 

But it’s kind of an innocent pleasure and Victor enjoys it tremendously, but of course he does so in silence.

Since they’ve made up again and decided they are in for now, at least on a professional basis and even though they haven’t discussed for how long, the pressure and sadness have somewhat lifted, and so Victor allows himself to take it all down a notch, be content and patient and just enjoy the lingering attraction between them. He still _wants_ , that hasn’t changes _at all_ , and he does so with all his self and a ferocity that is all-encompassing and takes most of what he has to hide. Sometimes it proves to be difficult, but for the sake of their professional companionship he never lets it spill over openly but instead always keeps it confined in the space between them they don’t talk about.

So, naturally Victor is thrown a bit off track now.

“What?” he blurts out and has to cough to gloss over his surprise and awkwardness. It’s dark outside and Victor cannot really see Yuuri’s face between the halos of the street lamps where the shadows lurk.

Yuuri seems to be caught up in his own head and, quite oblivious to the sudden yearning that shoots through Victor and that he has controlled so well since they’ve made up, he says, “Your program has to be skated with the utmost sense of seduction in mind because the music is beautiful and demanding and enticing, and if I want to score high on presentation I’ll have to sweep away every one watching to convey just that.” 

_And have the audience sweat on their seats, cross their legs and drown in ecstasy, yes,_ Victor subjoins but keeps silent.

“Yes,” is what he does say and tries to keep it casual. “That is the plan.” He throws Yuuri a sideway glance and decides they are comfortable enough again for a bit of good-natured teasing. Just to restore and steady their work experience, of course. And maybe, who knows, maybe it even answers a question or two.

“I am curious as to that, Yuuri,” he adds and quirks a flirty brow. They’ve just reached the halo of a street lamp and Yuuri’s face is washed in soft yellow light. 

He’s undeniably beautiful and Victor silently quenches the throb in his guts.

“How do you intent to do that, how will you skate ‘seduction’?” 

“I’ll just have to think of something that makes me lose the ability to make rational decisions and express that in my skating. I need something that…” Yuuri waves a flourish hand between them and his eyes brows furrow in thought. “…makes me act against my better judgment. Something that makes me lose myself… in want.”

“And what is that?” Victor asks breathlessly, a dazed look on his face. “What is it that makes you feel weak in the knees, what makes you smouldering deep down inside?”

Yuuri considers this for a moment and it’s clear that he has indeed thought about what this something could be but hasn’t come up with a good solution yet.

Just when they turn into the street that leads them to Yu-topia and Victor has already resigned himself to not get an answer on that particular question, Yuuri suddenly freezes in his track. 

“Pork Cutlet Bowl.”

Victor nearly stumbles over his own feet. His eyes turn very wide.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, Pork Cutlet Bowl, that’s it. That’s what makes me abandon my conviction and just… Are you alright, Victor?”

Yuuri takes an unsure step forwards and stares at Victor, his eyes wide and confused. “Victor? Was… was that a wrong thing to say?” he asks, and Victor just dissolves into laughing. 

“Oh my god, Yuuri, you are so adorable,” he exclaims and has to cross his arms in front of his belly because he’s laughing so hard. Yuuri is looking bewildered and starts fidgeting in an attempt to smother his obvious sudden embarrassment. He’s blushed prettily and in his chest Victor’s heart lurches sideways.

“I am sorry, I just…”

“No, no, no, Лапочка, it’s okay, it’s… I just didn’t expect this. This is brilliant,” he says, and just cannot help himself. To hell with taking it all down a notch, the need to touch is simply overwhelming. So he steps forward and, chest heaving because he’s still laughing even though he’s trying to supress it, gathers Yuuri in a half-embrace. 

“This is brilliant,” he says again and rests his forehead against Yuuri’s shoulder. “I _love_ Pork Cutlet Bowl.” 

Yuuri has tensed under his touch but when Victor affectionately squeezes his shoulder and buries his nose into his neck, eyes wet with joyous tears, he relaxes noticeably. 

“You do? Well… that’s a relief,” he breathes, and the soft smile that Victor can feel play on his lips warms his whole self and makes him feel just so peaceful and alive.

He feels even warmer when he feels Yuuri softly giggle and lean into the embrace.

*** 

“Okay, Yuuri, this is a quad Salchow. You don’t have to be afraid, you know,” Victor says as they skate out to the centre of the rink. “Just keep your wits together, don’t forget about the balance...” He twirls once and opens his arms wide as if presenting a celebrity at a sports gala. “…and just jump.”

Yuuri still looks unconvinced and shuffles his feet on the ice.

Victor scowls. “You’ve worked really hard on your confidence issue, so don’t let it get the better of you now,” he says. “Remember when you managed your quad toe loop and it was perfect? Remember the feeling? I want to see more of that confidence, Yuuri, it’s sexy.”

“Sexy?” Yuuri is incredulous but Victor is not having it.

“Yes, sexy. It’s what makes everyone watching you smoulder inside and it is what will carry you through your performance. Towards the gold, Yuuri. Being sexy means being confident. You are one, so now also be the other. Come on,” he adds with a wink when Yuuri looks like he’s just been struck by lightning, “Try it and you’ll see.”

Yuuri does try but he’s overthinking it and Victor can tell he gets scared the moment before the actual jump. His knees lock and his arms don’t reach the final position while his back stiffens awkwardly; he overbalances and falls hard onto the ice.

Fortunately, nothing serious happens but Yuuri is shaky and has a very vulnerable look on his face that he’s desperately trying to hide when Victor skates over. 

“Don’t let it throw you off,” Victor advises gently as he helps him back onto his knees and brushes the ice flakes off his shoulders. “You will master it, I have full confidence in you.”

Yuuri’s warm chocolate eyes scrutinize him closely before he mutters, “Okay, Victor, okay… I trust you,” heaves a great gulp of breath and skates off to try again. 

*** 

Victor is restless that night, but he isn’t really sure if it’s because of Yuuri or because of himself. 

Knees black and blue and an increasingly defeated and vulnerable look in his eyes, Yuuri had tried and tried to properly approach, jump and land the quad Salchow, and even though Victor had shown him again and again it was all to no avail.

This _something_ that is holding Yuuri back is rearing its ugly head again, and if he doesn’t suss out soon what it is so he can actually help Yuuri, he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Yuuri might be inclined again to decide he isn’t worth it and finally fully crumble under the pressure. 

On the other hand Yuuri is just so bloody stubborn. Which is good because he barrels through, and simultaneously bad because he’s obviously set his mind on solving the problem on his own. And that’s simply driving Victor round the bend. 

Victor growls in frustration.

Tonight, he is alone in his room and cannot confide in Maccachin because the traitor has dropped out earlier, and judging by the delightful squeals - both human and animal alike - coming from Yuuri’s room next door Maccachin is celebrating Victor’s and Yuuri’s reunion rather enthusiastically. 

Just not with _him_ , Victor muses, but cannot really begrudge his beloved poodle the bliss of Yuuri’s company. Briefly, Victor entertains the fantasy of just pushing the paper partition between their rooms out of the way and join the party, because wouldn’t it be nice to cuddle Maccachin while Yuuri does the same? Victor imagines fingers tangling into fur, into fingers, skin brushing over skin and heated glances over poodle ears, and the fact that he still wants Yuuri so much it’s hurtful makes him long to just breach that line once and for all. Sadly, though, he isn’t brave enough to chance his luck and it’s probably better that way anyway. Yuuri is already deflated and vulnerable and Victor doesn’t want to confuse him or scare him off on top of everything. 

Thinking back to their practice today Victor is sure that he had obviously been right when it came to guessing where Yuuri’s greatest fears lie. It’s undeniably the jumps that make him feel unsure of himself, make him cave to pressure and anxiety. To the belief that he can’t do it. His emotional mind-set totally floods his brain with fear when it comes to jumps, but googling Yuuri’s skating history hasn’t brought up any injuries that might have mentally scarred him on that front. 

If it obviously doesn’t work with words and encouragement - and keeping at it like that decidedly feels like running head-first into a wall that doesn’t budge or come down - maybe Victor has to be cleverer than Yuuri’s fear and more steadfast than Yuuri’s lack of belief in himself. Maybe he somehow has to trick him into letting it all go and just use the natural balance that is all Yuuri and how he dances to finally overcome his predicament and move on. 

Because once he does, he’ll be like a butterfly that spreads his wings for the first time after having been caged in a cocoon for far too long. Victor longs for that to happen with a passion that equally rivals the love his heart harbours for the man.

A soft smile spreads over his face, and Victor allows himself to relive the moment again, when Yuuri had locked eyes with him earlier and told him he’d trusted him. He’s been in Japan a little more than a month now and finally, _finally_ it feels like they are really growing together as an entity on the ice. 

Victor sniffs as he drops back into the pillows and crosses his arms behind his head. They’ve taken another step and he is optimistic about the next one as well. After all, they’ve already moved mountains in only one month.

Listening to Yuuri and Maccachin playing next door, Victor closes his eyes and lets all the contentment and tranquillity wash over him that a tiny Japanese town at the end of the world and this new life he is living here has to offer. He imagines jumps and spins and music and dancing and thinks that maybe he ought to let Yuuri dance to completely arbitrary music? Just to distract him from the lines of the program - ‘Dirty Dancing’ being by far the favourite choice. Victor chuckles because the soundtrack is ridiculously romantic, and he can feel his ears go warm.

Well, he thinks a moment later, who knows, maybe Yuuri prefers something more rogue?

While he tries and plots how to make Yuuri forget his shortcomings and focus on all his considerable talents, eventually the noise next door dies down and Victor sinks into blissful slumber.

*** 

A cold wet nose wakes him just before dawn and at first the only thing Victor wants is shove off the intruder, snuggle into the duvet and go back to sleep. But the nose is persistent and soon Victor is awake enough to notice it’s Maccachin that’s assaulting him in his sleep.

“Hey, you little traitor,” he mumbles fondly. “Have you found your own bed again? Come here.”

But Maccachin obviously doesn’t want to. He runs over to the half-open door only to return again and bump his cold nose into Victor’s face. He’s whining and when Victor proves to be too dump and sleepy to understand what he wants, Maccachin gives a loud and urgent growl and tugs at his sleeve.

Victor instantly gets alerted to the fact that something isn’t right here. Blinking his eyes several times, he tries to clear them from sleep, and pushes away the duvet. The soft semi-light of pre-dawn falls through the shutters and tinges everything in grey that Victor knows will very soon turn into orange and yellow. He loves the sunrise in Japan but now he pays it no heed.

“Maccachin, did something happen? What is it?” he asks, and the poodle whines again and slips out of the door. Briefly, Victor wonders since when Maccachin is able to open slide-doors but following after him he sees him disappear through Yuuri’s open door.

The house is completely silent as Victor creeps closer and glimpses around the room. He’s been in here before but only once, right after his arrival in Hasetsu. Yuuri is ridiculously private about his own room, and while Victor has taken a look around the only time he had been in here while Yuuri had still been so very, very flustered and awkward around him, he hasn’t really spotted anything that might have explained Yuuri’s odd sense of privacy. 

His gaze glides over a low desk in the corner to the build-in wardrobe, the walls with the lighter patches of wallpaper where once posters must have hung, the window. The shutters aren’t closed and so in the grey pre-dawn light Victor’s gaze falls onto Yuuri’s bed and he hurries over a moment later.

It’s empty, the sheets cold. Yuuri is gone.

*** 

Victor tries to shove away a sense of fright that increases towards panic when he searches the house. It’s still early and everybody is asleep as he silently checks the kitchen, the hallway and the dais in the garden where he’s sat with Yuuri before. A sense of urgency is creeping up on him as he moves on bare feet, his pyjamas loose around him, completely awake. Yuuri is nowhere to be found.

Briefly, he considers checking in with Yuuri’s sister and parents but then discards the idea again. Surly Yuuri wouldn’t go sneak in with them for whatever reason he has to be out of bed and so he moves on, Maccachin hot at his heels.

The poodle leads him back to Yuuri’s room and when Victor switches the lights on, he notices Yuuri’s skates are missing. As are his training slacks and bag. Victor hurries over to his own room, sheds his pyjama, and donning a track suit he reaches for his phone.

There is a text from Chris that Victor doesn’t bother reading now. Yuuri hasn’t texted him but Victor hadn’t really expected it anyway. The alarm shows him it’s just after 5 o’clock in the morning. However, that doesn’t tell him when Yuuri has left and Maccachin must have been sleeping, otherwise he would have alerted Victor earlier. He must have woken to find Yuuri already gone. 

Tying his trainers, Victor puts the phone into his pocket and silently opens the front door. Everything is quiet around them. There is only one guess he has about the place Yuuri might have slinked off to, and while his initial guess would have been Minako’s ballet studio, the missing skates provide the obvious clue. So him and Maccachin cross the front yard, get the bike Victor rides nearly every day while Yuuri jogs alongside him and turn into the street at whose end lies the ice castle. 

*** 

The reception area behind the glass doors is dark but there is a soft light shining through the topmost windows at the building, right over the ice rink, and Victor relaxes a bit but doesn’t slow his strides. He’s left the bike at the stairs, just out of the way, unlocked because he couldn’t afford the time. Yuuri has dropped out before when he was unfocused and wanted to be alone to work through a problem. Usually his steps has taken him to the ballet studio, and it would have been the first location for Victor to check, hadn’t it been for the missing skates. Of course, Yuuri could have re-decided while on the way to the ice castle, but the bluish neon light under the roof of the rink confirms Victor hunch. He hurries on, a sense of dread in his stomach that makes him take two steps in one stride as he climbs the stairs to the front doors.

They prove to be locked and, briefly, Victor rakes a hand through his silver hair before he remembers the back door. Maccachin is a dark smudge of shadow beside him as Victor runs around the building and pulls at the back door handle. It gives way easily and Victor hurries inside. His heart is beating hard in his chest from the exertion of rushing the whole way to the ice castle but he doesn’t really feel it. With every step that takes him closer to the rink his anticipation grows and curdles in his stomach. 

Victor is relieved when he opens the door to the rink and sees Yuuri on the ice. He’s standing a little off to the centre, hair wild, arms bend at the elbow, palms up. As Victor stops at the top row bleachers and stares down at him, Maccachin whining at his side and the air around him cold and crisp, Yuuri’s suddenly sways on his knees and his legs give in. 

“Yuuri?” Victor yells, and for a moment he waits for acknowledgement. When it doesn’t come, he springs into action again and hurls himself down the ranks of the bleachers towards the barrier that reins in the ice. The ice glows an eerie blue in the beginning dawn and the few lights Yuuri has turned on aren’t bright enough to illuminate the whole room, the neon bulb barely enough to cast away the shadows off to the sides behind the barrier where most of the upper bleachers are washed into grey. In his haste to reach the lower parts where the bleachers give way to a small open space in front of the small booths for coaches and staff, Victor nearly trips over one of the last steps. He stumbles but succeeds to hold his balance - and on the ice Yuuri slowly tips over onto his knees, gloved palms grinding into the ice, whole body shaking.

“Yuuri,” Victor yells again as he sees the other man collapse like a doll whose threads have been cut, and he jumps down the last steps, but Yuuri doesn’t turn towards him. Can’t he hear him? Hasn’t he noticed Victor’s presence? It doesn’t really look like it and just as Victor reaches the door in the barriers a strangled, distressed cry reverberates through the eerily silent rink. 

It freezes Victor heart, and the sight unfolding before his very eyes makes his blood run very, very cold. On the ice Yuuri has slouched into a heap on the ground, legs akimbo and bent awkwardly at the knees, torso slightly canted to the side and hands ground into the cold ice around him. He’s trembling violently as Victor cries his name again and pushes himself to get to him as fast as he can. He isn’t wearing skates, so once his feet touch the mirror-like surface, his balance is abruptly off and he scrambles to stay on his feet, forced to move slowly. Still not having noticed him, Yuuri produced that eerie cry again, his voice broken and shattered, and in the hollow silence of the rink it makes something in Victor come crashing down. 

Suddenly he is very, very frightened.

“Yuuri, I am here,” he cries, and on awkwardly wobbly legs he scrambles over to Yuuri where he sits on the ice to close the terrifying distance. A few meters off he loses his precarious balance, and knees hitting the ground hard, has to crawl the last couple meters. 

However, there is no pain in his joints; all he can see is Yuuri and the nebulous shadows that turn his face into a mask of terror.

“Yuuri, what is it, are you hurt?”

But Yuuri doesn’t seem to hear him. His eyes are huge in a face so pale it’s ghostly translucent, his dark hair sticking out in sharp contrast, his lips bleached bone-white. His pupils are unseeing, his gaze locked onto something Victor cannot see and his chest is heaving so hard it must cause him physical pain. He’s shaking like a leaf in a strong gust of wind, and it hits Victor like a train that Yuuri must obviously be having a panic attack. That at least would explain why he doesn’t react at all when Victor reaches out and grabs his shoulders.

“Вот блин, Yuuri,” he says again, forcing his voice into a more controlled and calm register and totally missing by ten miles. Nevertheless, he tries to centre the other man through the familiar sound of his name and the steady grip at his upper torso, while the fear coursing through his veins makes his own chest contract violently.

“Yuuri, wake up - it’s Victor, it’s me.”

The sound tearing from his throat that is Yuuri’s name is unlike any cadence his voice has ever had before, but Victor only notices it distantly. He isn’t sure whether asking Yuuri to wake up again is the correct choice of words but it doesn’t really matter, because when Victor shakes him he jolts as if an electric currant has raced through his body. Glassy, wild eyes snap onto him, and drawing in a rattling breath Yuuri lifts his head towards Victor. It must be taking him all his energy to control the movement. However, his mouth is still wide open, the eerie and utterly distressed sound being convulsively pumped out of his lungs. 

He’s in a full blown panic attack and Victor doesn’t know what to do. He is totally helpless and frantically tries to keep it together. 

Seeing Yuuri like this is just unbelievably frightened, and suddenly it occurs to him what that something must be that Yuuri is hiding. 

“Yuuri, look at me, focus on me, I am here and I am not going away,” he chants, voice high-pitched and brittle. “Don’t let go, come back, it’s all fine, everything is okay.” 

Victor tries to force his voice into a soothing tone but misses by a mile, frightened as he is. He’s never witnessed someone having a panic attack and he is totally out of his depth. It probably doesn’t matter what exactly it is he’s telling Yuuri, but Victor’s voice somehow seems to help, and so he keeps on talking to Yuuri, trying to pull him out of his own head and away from the pictures he must be seeing there.

It feels like an eternity thought it cannot in fact be more than a few seconds until another frisson jolts through Yuuri, and he lifts a shaking hand and lets it rest on Victor’s wrist where it still grabs his shoulder. With a heavy draught of air Yuuri snaps his head, and finally his eyes clear and focus on Victor and where he crouches in front of him.

Abruptly, the eerie cry Yuuri has been uttering is brought up short and Yuuri is choking on his own ragged breath.

“Victor,” he whispers when he can breathe again. “What- what are you doing here?” and Victor feels a relief so overwhelming wash through him that all the tension immediately crashes out of him. 

“Yuuri, can you hear me?” he asks, and his voice is still trembling but the relief is so great he doesn’t really care. They are both shaking by now and he grips Yuuri’s shoulders tighter while Yuuri clutches at his arms and elbows. 

“I am sorry,” Victor hears him say and, without thinking, pulls him into a tight hug. 

“No, no,” he says reassuringly. “No, it’s alright, Yuuri, it’s okay, just calm down.” He isn’t at all sure whom he’s trying to console with his words but it’s probably both of them by now. 

In his arms Yuuri is still trying to catch his breath but Victor is glad to notice that Yuuri’s arms has come up to encompass his shoulders, while he feels fingers press into the meat and sinew at his upper back and neck. Trying to calm his own breathing he closes his eyes and holds Yuuri silently. The scent of sandal wood is strongest at the hairline at Yuuri’s neck and Victor rakes one hand upwards to let it soothingly glide over Yuuri’s back as he presses his nose into the sweaty hair just below Yuuri’s ear and lets the scent and warmth ground him. A moment later he feels Yuuri shift and do the same, and Victor is so relieved that he pulls him closer and presses his lips to Yuuri’s jaw in a reassuring kiss.

Behind them at the door to the barriers Maccachin gives a slow whine and lies down to rest his muzzle on his paws.

“I was so worried when I found you gone,” Victor says after a time when they have both calmed down enough to speak again. His knees and shins have gone completely numb from the awkward crouch on the ice, his skin cold beneath his trousers. Yuuri’s back is drenched in sweat and where he has been shaking before in panic, he’s shivering now with the cold.

“I am sorry,” Yuuri says again, “I just… I couldn’t sleep and… I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise me with what?” Victor asks and drags his nose out of Yuuri’s hair. “You could have…”

But Yuuri shakes his head and talks over him. “The jump, the Salchow, I wanted to… But when I stepped on the ice I just… I couldn’t…” His shoulders are shaking again, and Victor resolves that, while having Yuuri in his arms is definitely one of the best things in the world, the ice is too cold a place for them to stay on for long without risking injury to their joints or general health.

So, still shaken, he loosens his grasp around Yuuri to stand up and get them off the ice.

To his surprise Yuuri only stiffens and his fingers dig deeper into Victor’s shoulders. “Don’t leave me,” he whispers and draws in a sharp breath. He looks like a lost and frightened boy torn away from the warmth and comfort of someone he trusts, and Victor cups his face and draws their brows together.

“I won’t,” he says, and in lieu of the kiss he is suddenly desperate to bestow onto Yuuri, he presses his lips to his cheek in a soothing gesture. “I told you I’d never be so careless. Now come on, it’s cold.”

Yuuri’s eyes are huge and glassy when they lock gazes, and after a long moment he nods and lets Victor hoist him up on shaky legs and haul him off the ice.

*** 

They only make it as far as the first row of bleachers before cold and residual worry finally get to them and they collapse onto the benches. Yuuri is shivering again and this time Victor is sure it is only with the cold and not with a recurring fit of panic. Having no skates under his feet he’s felt totally unbalanced on the mirror-like ice as he’s dragged them both towards the door. Yuuri’s legs have wobbled precariously, all strength gone, and so the other man hadn’t been of much help in the endeavour. 

Now, off the ice, Victor lets his body slump onto the benches and feels Yuuri collapse next to him, a tense shoulder pressed into his. Victor reaches out an arm to pull Yuuri close.

They are both utterly exhausted as they lean against each other, sharing their warmth in the cold grey-blue light that filters through the windows above the rink. Sadly, there is no blanket or warm jacket around that Victor could have put around Yuuri’s shoulders but a moment later soft paws click on concrete, and Maccachin shuffles closer and puts his head onto Yuuri’s lap. In the semi-darkness of the rink his dark eyes shine as he looks up at Yuuri.

“Maccachin woke me,” Victor explains as Yuuri’s hand sinks into the soft fur. He wants to elaborate but Yuuri tilts his face down towards the poodle and tightens the grip around Victor’s waist to shuffle another few inches closer. 

Turning sideways so he can let Yuuri rest against his chest and throat, Victor lets him.

They sit in that position for a long while and Yuuri pets Maccachin while Victor hold him tight. The scent of sandal wood and lemonade is strong in his nose. One arm he has draped around Yuuri’s shoulders and the other has moved upwards to Yuuri’s neck, effectively embracing him, and gradually Yuuri’s residual shaking quietens down. 

Victor’s mind is racing and he is practically burning up with questions and deductions, but for the sake of Yuuri’s mental equilibrium he keeps them all locked inside his throat. He’s once resolved to let Yuuri set his own pace and though he’s found himself lacking as a coach, he doesn’t want to also be lacking as a friend. So he holds Yuuri and waits, while the sunrise outside of the ice castle gradually chases the shadows from the rink. 

“I didn’t want to tell you about… about the anxiety issues and my panic attacks, Victor, it’s… ugly,” Yuuri says after a while. “And I am sorry I ignored you.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Victor asks and his heart clenches painfully in his chest when he finds his first hunch confirmed. At the same time, though, he can feel shame curl hotly through his abdomen because he’s promised Yuuri to not take his eyes off of him while he’s promised himself to give Yuuri’s coaching all he has. Now finding himself also lacking on that front is as if someone has dowsed him in cold water, and he silently curses the fact that he’s been so blind and careless when he’s showed up at Yuuri’s home and talked him into letting Victor take him under his wings. 

The wings that, while belonging to an unarguably great skater, don’t exactly, evidently, make him a great coach. It’s a very sobering thought and he finds himself gripping Yuuri just a little bit tighter. 

“I didn’t want to burden you,” Yuuri is murmuring quietly, and if it weren’t for the total lack of sound around them, Victor might not have heard it at all. 

Suddenly Victor feels so very, very helpless again, and while he could have glossed over the fact that Yuuri didn’t tell him because this is evidently a very Japanese thing to do, it is just another one of those things he hasn’t seen. His shoulders sag.

“No, it is me who ought to be sorry,” he tells the other man and resists the urge to bury his face into Yuuri’s soft hair. “I came to Japan because I thought it would offer me the reprise I needed to figure out what to do with my life and my career, and I thought coaching you wouldn’t be such a big deal. I am so sorry I was wrong.” He sniffs and suddenly his heart feels so heavy where it pounds beneath his ripcage. “I could understand it if you want me to take responsibility. It’s not too late to join your former coach in Detroit and pick up your training. I just…”

“No, no,” Yuuri cuts though him and jolts half-out of his embrace. His eyes are huge pools of brown again and he is frantically shaking his head. “I was so depressed after the Grand Prix Final, and when you showed up I got bored of being depressed. I don’t know what it is you see in my skating but it has given me back what I have always loved about skating. I want to win a gold medal, I just didn’t think I was good enough.”

“But Лапочка, you are beautiful when you skate, and you will learn that jumps, I know that,” Victor surges to say because why can’t Yuuri see it still? See how much compassion for the ice he has, see all his skill-sets and considerable talent. Victor doesn’t know the first thing about anxiety issues and panic attacks, but he’s seen Yuuri land a quad toe loop in competition, and they have refined his technic over the past weeks. So deep down he indeed is able to do it. Victor also seen him try out other jumps, and while Yuuri has been shaky and frustrated and couldn’t execute them perfectly, Victor has seen him try and not succumb to the panic attack that has taken up full force over his brain and confidence when Yuuri stepped onto the ice alone this morning. That has to count for something, doesn’t it? Briefly, he wonders how Yuuri could have been able to push the panic and all its side effects aside to learn the quad toe loop, but now doesn’t really seem the right time for lengthy conversations as he feels Yuuri shiver. 

However, there is something he really needs to know before he can release him out of his embrace and take him home.

“If there is anything I can do, anything I can be, then let me, I really want to help you figure it out.”

Shivering again and gripping Victor’s track suit jacket tighter, Yuuri lets out a long breath of air. “You don’t need to be anyone else, Victor. I want you to stay who you are! I've always looked up to you. I ignored you because I didn't want you to see my shortcomings. It’s just…” Here Yuuri purses his lips and Victor waits for him to make up his mind and find his words. 

With furrowed brows Yuuri does a moment later and suddenly there is that spark between them again. 

“I was wondering why you’d do all that, why you’d stick with me and… I just don’t get you, sometimes.” Yuuri shakes his head, lost for words and a hint of the adorable blush is back on his face.

Smiling softly, Victor leans forward to put their brows together. Yuuri goes willingly. “Because with you,” Victor whispers, “the ice doesn’t feel so lonely anymore, Лапочка.”

He sees Yuuri’s mouth break into a shy smile, warm-chocolate eyes glowing, and then Victor doesn’t see anything anymore because just like that the spark around them lights up into a bright flame once more as Yuuri tilts his chin and leans forward to bridge the couple inches between them and press their lips together.

*** 

On their way back to Yu-topia Victor is too flummoxed to either remember the bike or decide whether to hurry them along so he can get Yuuri to take a hot bath to curb the impact his panic attack and the minutes they have crouched on the ice have undoubtedly had on his health, or stop them every few meters, back Yuuri into a wall, a fence, _a lamp post_ , gather him in his arms and press their lips together again and again and again.

They have chastely kissed for a few breathless moments on the bench, lips on lips, closed but steady and determined, and after the first shock had subsided Victor had presses himself to Yuuri, had griped his neck, circled his torso with his arms and pulled him in. With a gasp Yuuri had followed. They’d kept it on the surface and even though the desire to finally follow through, open his mouth and kiss Yuuri raw had been nearly overwhelming, Victor had restrained himself. In hindsight it had been the sensible option but he’ll be damned if he knows how he’s managed.

The cold benches at the ice rink in the morning without proper means to stay warm isn’t exactly the place to let his desires show, even though his heart rate had picked up pace and he’s felt warmest kissing Yuuri on the bench since stepping into the ice castle and pulling him out of his head and off the ice.

Sneaking a look at Yuuri now where they walk side by side in the yellow streetlight and only then realizing that hiding at this point is probably pointless, he takes in Yuuri’s wild hair and tired eyes. A bit of colour has crept into his face again and Victor prefers that a lot over the white face and bone-bleached lips he has seen on Yuuri before. They’ve left the skates and gear at the rink so they needn’t bother with dragging them around in the state they’re in. 

Yuuri’s hands are slouched at his sides, and on impulse Victor takes one in his. Yuuri’s head snaps up and when their eyes meet, the colour rises on his cheeks. Again Victor wonders how deep down that blush actually extends. 

Smiling at Yuuri, he intertwines their fingers and feels Yuuri move closer and hold on tight.

As they trudge along the street leading them back to the Onsen it occurs to Victor that there may have been yet another thing he hasn’t seen before. At the dais that one night after Yuuri had hurt his ankle and shin Victor has told him how he wanted to get to know him. What he likes and doesn’t, how he feels about skating, maybe even how he feels about been given another chance and a go at the podium. Victor hadn’t asked the latter two questions aloud; they had been implied. Especially since it had been blatantly obvious that Yuuri had indeed sold his soul to the ice in the same fashion as Victor had. 

Of course Victor had estimated it all to be much simpler, because he is careless and most of the things he touches _do_ turn into gold, as Yuuri has once accused him. However, it has become increasingly clear that Yuuri is an emotional skater whose feelings greatly affect his concentration, confidence and the way he loses himself on the ice. It’s still too early to make an assumptions but Victor finds himself wishing now as he holds Yuuri’s hand in his while they are walking home, that now, in revealing the ugly something, the pressure Yuuri has loaded upon himself has a chance to lift and Yuuri has a chance to finally be able to see his own potential, his own beautiful soul. 

However, it isn’t only Yuuri who apparently needed to reveal his deepest fear, and maybe in telling Yuuri how lonely the ice feels without him now Victor has been graced with the chance to care for someone other than himself, to take responsibility for someone else. 

In the soft morning light in a tiny town at the end of the world, and even though it all still feels so out of time and _big_ and somehow unfathomable, Victor hopes he will also be able to grow and blossom. 

Just like that another deduction falls into line.

Yuuri had admitted he wants to win a gold medal but as they turn the street corner and step into the front yard of Yu-topia Victor surmises there’s probably more to that. Winning a gold medal and standing on the podium is the dream of every skater, the highest price a skater can possibly achieve. With it come appreciation, attention and sponsor deals and that’s where most of the money a skater gets comes from. Victor has made more money than he can ever spend. What’s more, he has invested wisely, and the way his career and these investments have panned out so far, money is not an issue he will ever have to worry about. Besides, he will always be a legend, as long as he lives. But for Yuuri who’s suffering from anxiety that overtake him every time he attempts a more complicated jump winning a gold medal probably doesn’t primarily mean making a decent living but conquering his fears and teaching himself he is worth it all.

The front door opens when they approach the front porch and Maccachin barks happily when he sees Mari stepping out of the house, an unlit cigarette in her hand.

“Ah, I was wondering where you’ve been dropped out to,” she says and Victor is oddly reminded of a similar conversation he’s had with her at the door. Looking down at the poodle he waits for them both to slink off towards the kitchen and is surprised when it’s not Maccachin but instead Yuuri and him that get addressed a moment later.

“Mom was worried about you two and called Yuuko, but she said you must have been at the rink at some point because Yuuri’s skates were lying under a bench.” Surveying them in that unfazed way of hers she adds, “Are you doing night practice now?”

“Not exactly, no,” Yuuri says, ears flaming red and hand flinching in Victor’s but holding on, at the same time as Victor says, “It’s been an out-of-schedule-thing.”

They look at each other and Mari looks at their hands where they are still joint between them, before she opens the door wider.

“Do you want breakfast then now?”

“Yes, please,” Victor says but it’s Maccachin that surges forward to bump his nose into Mari’s hand and get fingers lovingly tangled into fur. He barks happily at Victor but then has eyes for Mari only. 

Mari smiles down at the poodle and Victor finds he seriously cannot begrudge his beloved friend the attention and probably extra scraps from the kitchen that Mari will undoubtedly supply him with the moment everybody else looks the other way. After all, he’s been quite the hero when he woke Victor and followed him all the way to the ice castle to find and comfort Yuuri. 

As Mari leads the poodle inside without sparing a backwards glance to Yuuri and Victor and where they are still hovering at the door, Victor’s stomach gives a loud growl.

“You two help yourselves,” Mari says as she and a much-exited Maccachin disappear down the corridor and off into the kitchen. Yuuri and Victor stare at each other before dissolving into loose and tired giggles. 

“You need a hot bath, Лапочка, and then breakfast,” Victor says and the shy but relaxed smile Yuuri casts in his direction has him utterly charmed and warm all over. 

“Yes, I do,” Yuuri agrees before stepping inside and pulling Victor with him over the threshold. Regarding him closely while Victor slides the door shut, he asks, “Victor… Will you tell me what the word means? The one you…” He trails off with a hand gesture filling in the blanks and colours again attractively. 

“’Лапочка’?” Victor asks and colours too.

“That’s…” He blinks and when Yuuri deepens his smile Victor thinks that being in love really is quite a change in life. 

“I might want to tell you in private,” he says, and tugging Yuuri with him, he walks a few steps backwards down the corridor before turning around. Leading them towards the Onsen to make good on his promise, Victor briefly mourns the fact that, as much as he’d like to make good on another promise he’s made with himself about kissing and maybe _more_ that is yet to come, it’s probably best to stick to the course of letting Yuuri set his own pace, and accommodate and adjust along the way. Show him Victor is there and won’t ever go away.

*** 

Victor feels detached from his own head most of the day and he finds his whole body burning up whenever Yuuri’s and his gazes cross. The pull he experiences towards the other man is just so strong. It’s probably both the most exciting _and_ weirdest, most frustrating and out-of-sorts day of his life, and that fact catches him off guard in a way that leaves him somewhat dazed and check the time on his phone every five minutes. 

If Yuuri notices he keeps quiet about it; a fact that makes Victor wonder whether he is in fact the only one whose nerves are slowly fraying at the seams because of the major shift their relationship has undergone just a few hours ago.

Mind racing with potentialities Victor regards Yuuri closely whenever the other man looks the other way and wonders if Yuuri can feel the shift like Victor does. Truth be told, there really _is_ a sort of new awareness between them, and Victor has Yuuri’s searching looks on him to prove it, but maybe Victor is just losing it again and Yuuri might in fact be the better actor, because he’s so outrageously calm. 

In any event, there is still so much left unsaid, so many threads untied, and Victor feels once again trapped in no-man’s-land. More than once he thinks about addressing the issue, but then keeps silent.

As he takes his phone in hand to distract himself with Instagram and the new pictures of Georgi’s girlfriend his rink mate has posted - seriously, Georgi may be a sob and a drama queen but his single-minded devotion to Anya is somehow heart-warming - Victor remembers the text Chris has sent him the night before, and quickly opens the message field.

 _Any major developments I should know about?_ Chris has texted him and Victor quickly types _Pending, keep rooting for me_ , to which Chris immediately replies with a kissy-kissy-smiley.

For some reasons that little exchange lets his heart beat pick up pace into a nervous flutter, and Victor resolves to take Maccachin for a run at the beach to work off his restless energy.

Around noon he has a hard time not succumbing to another fit of nerves, because while the prominent thing on his mind is what could potentially happen once their daily routine is done and the lights in the Onsen go out, he isn’t sure whether that culmination also feels natural to Yuuri, and they will come together - they’ve done so on a professional basis but Victor’s heart longs for a more emotional and permanent connection. After all, they’ve only shared a few chaste kisses after a very emotional and confusing situation, and while Victor knows what it is he wants to do with Yuuri once the lights have gone out, he isn’t at all sure Yuuri wants the same. 

The shameless dancer at the banquet might have wanted that, might in fact have claimed it the minute they’ve set foot into Yu-topia again, but does the pensive skater?

Victor feels weirdly out of sorts and nervous like he’s never done before. He’s had flings before and has even considered more with one of them because he’s been so smitten, but it all pales in comparison to what he’s feeling for Yuuri, and while he desperately wants to get it right between them this time, he cannot work up the courage and find words to say what he wants. At least not during their normal daily routine and so he silently keeps on rooting for the night, thinking that maybe Yuuri is waiting as well. 

So they carry on with their day, while in Victor’s chest the burning intensifies with every casual touch and every look they share.

Yuuri’s knees and shins are covered in multiple bruises, thus again condemning him to take a day off the ice and only work out at the gym, and of course Victor follows him. The bruising this time isn’t as bad and will heal within a day or two, and Yuuri’s ankles are a lot more mobile that they have been a few weeks ago when he’s fallen for the first time. So they work out their abdominal muscles, their pectorals and thighs, but Victor cannot really concentrate and so, at some point, just lounges around the small stretching area massaging his creaking knees that crouching on the ice for so long this morning has made inflexible and sore, while he waits and waits and waits for the day to finally wane and the night to come.

*** 

After dinner Victor ponders the individual steps of the short program he’s choreographing for ‘On love: Eros’ again and chews the tip of his biro, lost in his task. It’s only him and Yuuri tonight as all the others seem to be suspiciously busy with preparations for the weekend, and Maccachin of course who is currently being fed bits of dumplings with minced meat and sprouts. Victor chances a look at where they sit kitty-corner, Maccachin half on top of Yuuri and Yuuri with a fond smile on his face.

The easy domesticity of it is actually quite heart-warming, and if it wouldn’t be for the program they have yet to finalize, Victor would have liked to sit in the parlour and watch these two loves of his for ages.

However, that easy domesticity cannot gloss over the fact that the atmosphere around them feels like the air just before a tempest, and Victor feels itchy and just so aware. 

Trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him, he recalls that Yuuri has impressive stamina, and leaving aside the fact that they still have to work out how to manage all the jumps, it is clear that once they do, the further they advance in the qualifying, the more jumps they will have to push into the second half of the program to receive the necessary points. Victor has danced the Eros-program for Yuuri and Yuuri has already adapted most of the steps and twists and spins in the correct fashion and made them his own - and doesn’t he look absolutely dashing and dazzling skating Victor’s performance? 

He absolutely does.

However, there are some things that need to be discussed and, most of all, skated but since skating is off the schedule until at least the day after tomorrow, they are stuck with discussing for tonight. It’s quite the delicate topic and Victor has spared Yuuri all day but now that he knows the something beating around the bush is not an option any longer.

So he turns his head to Yuuri where he has now moved over to scratching the poodle behind the ears and telling him that he’s already had all the food that was on offer.

“Yuuri, I was wondering,” Victor starts cautiously and the hand that freezes in Maccachin’s fur tells him that Yuuri is aware of the sudden shift in atmosphere around them. “How did you manage to learn the quad toe loop?”

“I…” Yuuri starts but keeps his gaze lowered at Maccachin. “…my friend Phitchit, Phitchit Chulanont? He taught me.”

“How?”

“Well…” Yuuri trails off and it’s clear how much it is costing him to force out the words and tell Victor. “At the rink after hours… No one was watching.”

An angry blush has crept up into Yuuri’s cheeks and in Maccachin’s fur his hand twists awkwardly. Gone is the mellowness that has been there before and in its place Victor now finds the beginnings of distress.

Remembering his own helplessness on the ice that morning and forcing his voice into a non-threatening cadence Victor says, “Would it help if we do the same? We could do exactly the same and I could show you the jumps as many times as you need to see them. I know you can do them, I have seen it. You’ve managed to learn one, and you will manage to learn the rest.”

Yuuri is still averting his gaze and in his lap Maccachin has started to squirm and whimper loudly and has to be shushed by Victor, who moves around the table to tangle his hand behind the poodle’s ears.

So close to Yuuri the spark sizzles between them again and Victor has a flashback to how he has imagined tangling their hands together in soft fur. If the conversation they are having now wasn’t so totally inevitable, Victor would have loved to just tangle their fingers, let skin brush on skin and see where it all might take them to.

But this is about Yuuri. It’s not about himself and his selfish desires, even though where Yuuri goes Victor intends to follow.

So instead he sighs and scrutinizes Yuuri where he is still gripping Maccachin’s fur and collar, and it’s patently obvious how he’s retreating inwards again, slinking away where Victor cannot follow. Trying to keep it together and reminding himself about the baby steps, Victor regards him and feels the helplessness creep into him again. He cannot let Yuuri shut down again, he just cannot, he…

“How about we make a deal?” Victor suggests. 

Yuuri head snaps up and warm-chocolate eyes regard him suspiciously. Victor wants to lean forward and kiss the look off his face, smooth out the lines and put a smile there, but he reins himself in and grins mischievously instead. Depending on how Yuuri decides concerning what Victor has to offer it might actually answer a few more questions.

“What deal?”

“I’ll give you what you want if you promise to try,” Victor explains. “It’s up to you. You know I have full confidence in your abilities and skills and I want you to prove me right. Keep trying the jumps with me and chose what you want.” He regards Yuuri closely, and dropping his voice into the lowest and most seductive register he can possibly manage, he purrs, “What do you want from me?”

The answer Yuuri gives him after a few moments has Victor gobsmacked because it’s decidedly not what he’s expected, and his heart flutters wildly a second later because he doesn’t know how Yuuri does it but Yuuri always manages to surprise him.

“I want to eat Pork Cutlet Bowl with you. That’s what I want! I want to win a gold medal at the Grand Prix Final and then I want to eat Pork Cutlet Bowl with you.”

Yuuri’s back has straightened and there is a strength in his eyes that reminds Victor of how Yuuri has confessed it is in fact winning a gold medal that he wants just so badly. So he smiles, and rearranging his legs in the yukata he’s wearing so he can move even closer to the marvel that is Yuuri Katsuki, he grins.

“Then Pork Cutlet Bowl it is, Лапочка.”

Yuuri fixes him with soft, warm-chocolate eyes. All at once the spark between them flares up into a bright flame. Just when Victor makes to move, in two about whether he wants to follow his logic and lean back to give Yuuri space or follow his heart and the throbbing desire in his guts and close the distance between them, Yuuri murmurs, “Victor… Stay close to me, don’t go away.” His voice is soft and pleading, and Victor feels his heart and guts take over. He move even closer, whispers a soft “yes”, and leaning forwards finally presses his lips to Yuuri’s.

*** 

Under his hands and mouth Yuuri comes alive. His lips are soft and plump, and the way he lets his hands run over Victor’s back is just way too intoxicating. His lithe and strong body translates Victor’s touches into soft writhing and aborted sounds, and at first Victor is unsure how much he is allowed to do, how close he is allowed to get. It’s not like him to be so hesitant but the thing that is currently blooming between them has the potential to be life-changing. Victor will be damned if he messes it up because he doesn’t pay attention. So many things have already slipped by him; he cannot risk to get it wrong now when there is so much at stake.

However, it doesn’t take him very long to discover how much his ministrations are welcome, and he throws himself headfirst into the endeavour.

The yukata Yuuri is wearing has slipped open around his knees at some point and, bashfully, Yuuri tries to hide the bruising on his shins until Victor is not have it any more. He leans back a little and pulls one discoloured leg into his lap. Just like he’s done before he lets his fingers caress the soft skin of the tibialis posterior and down to the Achilles heel.

“You don’t need to hide,” he purrs and leans down to place a slow and reverent kiss onto the black-blue expanse of skin. “You are stunning, bruised knees or not.”

In emphasis he grows bolder and drags one hand upwards between delicate legs. It seems to push the right buttons because Yuuri suddenly moans and his legs fall prey to gravity around Victor’s exploring fingers. 

Soon they are lying on the floor. Kissing while on top of each other proves to be just the sweetest thing, and Victor’s body tingles in sweet arousal everywhere they touch. He lets his tongue glide along the seams of Yuuri’s mouth, before he gently pushes it between his lips in a kiss so deep like he‘s never shared before. Yuuri opens his mouth readily and Victor feels like soaring while his heart lurches hard in his chest. 

Yuuri is absolutely delicious; the way he trembles underneath Victor’s hands, the way his hair smells, how he grips his shoulders and _doesn’t let go_. Victor has never in all his life thought he’d enjoy kissing someone on the floor of their parent’s parlour so much, but it’s late and everybody is sleeping and even if they weren’t Victor wouldn’t care.

“Yuuri,” hey purrs into the other man’s ear and briefly licks around the shell, making Yuuri whimper and writhe even stronger. “You know you don’t need to envision Pork Cutlet Bowl to seduce the audience. You just need to be yourself.”

Yuuri wants to answer but a clever flick of Victor’s hand at the sash that still loosely holds his yukata together makes it impossible. The skin at is waist is hot and a bit damp and Victor is pleased to reacquaint himself with the black boxer briefs he’s seen Yuuri wear at the banquet. The pulse underneath his tongue as he lets it teasingly slide up Yuuri’s neck is thrumming a hot staccato, and Victor resolves they should get moving before they cannot restrain themselves anymore and he has to undress and devour Yuuri on his parent’s living room floor.

The thought makes him snort and stop his ministrations, and Yuuri’s warm-chocolate eyes focus on him.

“My room?” Victor murmurs at the same moment as Yuuri needily gasps out his name. They look at each other and it’s only the need to really be somewhere more private, somewhere more _final_ that allows them to untangle, slowly get up and grasp hands.

It’s Yuuri who leads them off to Victor’s room with sure steps. Victor’s legs are numb and wobbly, but the grip Yuuri has on his wrist is strong and real, and when he feels his yukata being pushed off his shoulders and kisses chasing the fabric down the front of his torso, Victor conceives that it doesn’t matter how much his heart is beating away in his chest, how much he’s still scared to bodge all this up because Yuuri is _here_ , warm against his chest, and maybe the shameless dancer and the pensive skater indeed are only two sides of the same coin that is the man he’s so utterly fallen for.

*** 

Making love to Yuuri allows Victor to finally reconcile the two different sides of the man he’s flown all the way to Japan for and Victor is more than glad to follow through. The way Yuuri pulls him down onto the futon to cover himself with Victor’s body and kisses him with so much deep passion and hunger, so much want boiling underneath his skin is just exhilarating and, briefly, Victor muses whether Yuuri’s impressive stamina also extends towards other ventures off the ice. 

His skin is hot under the yukata and Victor undresses them hurriedly, leaving only two pairs of briefs, one black and one dark green, before he pulls them flush from chest to knees. Yuuri presses up against him, carding the fingers of one hand into silver hair and just _pulls_. Not quite desperate yet but closing in on the point of utter loss of control.

The frisson that jolts from Victor’s scalp down his whole body is delicious and he is a little embarrassed about how loud his answering moan is. When he can open his eyes again he sees Yuuri smile.

It has been clear that Yuuri had hidden a lot of himself off the ice but now Victor finds out just how much, and in the passion he unleashes now on Victor’s futon there isn’t much Victor can do other than be swept away. Not that he wants to in the first place. Maybe it’s all so overwhelming because he is lonely and needy but that decidedly doesn’t mean he enjoys it any less.

In fact it’s quite the contrary. 

The way Yuuri kisses him is erotic and deep and raw and Victor is pleased and thankful to notice that there is nothing shy or bashful about him anymore. If anything, there is an anticipatory tension, a nervous energy that’s puckering inside of him, beating a rhythm through them both, a rhythm of _don’t let go, don’t let go_.

It feels a bit as if Yuuri has had his own revelations to work out and has also come to a decision now. A decision that thoroughly excites Victor and makes his heart race in his chest.

He is set on fire and when Yuuri slides his hands down Victor’s back and as he gives his butt a teasing squeeze through his briefs, Victor can feel flickering its tendrils devour his whole skin. 

In the semi-darkness of the bedroom Yuuri’s body is shrouded in shadows; all soft skin, virile muscles and warm-chocolate eyes, and the way he arches his hips upwards into Victor’s makes Victor think that he’s never seen him look more alluring. Not even the bruises that colour most of his shins and knees can diminish the sight. 

They are evidence on how Yuuri fights and goes down only to get up again.

Now, here on Victor’s futon, though, that strength is merely a side note. Yuuri is as vulnerable as Victor has ever seen him and yet at the same time there is a force about him that’s like ocean waves on lose sand the moment they retreat back into the water. 

He’s told Yuuri that there may be a side within him that no one has ever seen before; a side that not even Yuuri himself knows about. As Victor caresses the soft skin of Yuuri’s pectorals while simultaneously shifting onto his knees to have the required balance to work his other hand down enticing panes of abs and pelvis to where Yuuri’s famous black briefs are riding low on his hips, Yuuri arches his back again and wraps one leg around Victor as if to urge him on, face scrunched in lust and desire and _more_ , warm-chocolate eyes dark, and Victor thinks that they might have well found that side of him.

“Yuuri,” he groans and rolls his hips, seeking more contact, and immediately Yuuri answers back with a matching, slow rotation of his lower body, their briefs doing nothing at all to hide or rein in their arousal. Needing no further encouragement or incentive Victor nips the creamy skin where Yuuri’s neck and shoulder meet, thus eliciting a needy moan from Yuuri and a tightening of the way that leg is wrapped around Victor’s frame, and Victor wastes no more time. Baring his teeth he scraps them over delicate tendons only to let his tongue and lips smooth the resulting sting. The skin colours under his ministrations and Victor only stops and moves lower onto Yuuri’s chest and dark nipples when he is satisfied that the mark he’s created will be visible for a few days. No one will be able to see it because the neckline of Yuuri’s practice slacks will neatly cover and hide it from prying eyes but Victor will know it is there. 

Will know he’s the one who has put it there. 

Bemoaning the fact that there is not enough light to fully take in Yuuri’s beautiful form but unwilling to leave that form and get up to switch on the bedside lamp, Victor moves back a bit and lets his eyes rove across Yuuri’s body. 

When Victor first came to Japan nearly two months ago that body had been soft and round; not overly unfit because skating throughout most of his life has created a basic level of fitness and thus muscles that would always shape Yuuri and give him away as the athlete that he is. However, now that body has regained its leanness again, the little paunch Yuuri had sported during their first few weeks together gone, and as strong arms engulf him to pull him closer again, Victor goes willingly. 

In Yuuri’s eyes the hunger is evident and Victor knows his own face is displaying the same emotion. So he lets his hands glide down Yuuri’s side and pushes up onto his knees again to widen the room in which to work. 

“Look at you, Yuuri, you’re beautiful, my god,” he purrs and palms Yuuri’s hips and pelvis before moving downwards where his erection strains against the black briefs. Lifting his gaze upwards to where Yuuri watches him with heavy-lidded eyes, Victor’s hands dip into the waistband and he slowly pulls down the offending fabric, loving the feel of slender fingers on powerful legs, but loving Yuuri’s dazzled gaze and how his eyes flick between Victor’s hands and face more. 

It’s not too dark to see Yuuri’s erection spring free of the confines of his underwear and Victor pauses a few seconds in reverence to look his fill of purple skin amidst a patch of dark curls. Of course he’s seen Yuuri naked before in the Onsen but the other man had always tried to hide behind his characteristic modesty. Fortunately that modesty is absent now, and under Victor gaze Yuuri squirms and reaches out a hand.

“Yours too,” he breathes and Victor is happy to comply.

They come together again, sweaty skin clinging and sliding, and Victor’s desire multiplies in a gust of breath that leaves his lungs as their cocks touch and move along one another. This is nothing like Victor has felt before, this utterly fulfilling feeling of touching someone, making love to someone who is more than a brief fling and more than a convenient hook-up. Comparing any of them to Yuuri would be like comparing a small brittle flame to a roaring bonfire.

“You’re something else, Victor,” Yuuri suddenly mouths into his ear as if he’s somehow heard Victor’s last thought, and the only thing Victor can do is puff out a high-strung breath and answer, “So are you, Лапочка, so are you.”

“Then touch me,” Yuuri orders, “please” and Victor scrambles to do so. Yuuri enjoys his soft ministrations for exactly one minute before he moans deeply, lifts his hand and, to Victor’s stunned amazement, takes over.

Victor patently loses all the ability to talk or even think because Yuuri reaches a hand down and wraps a delicate hand around both their cocks. The fingers surrounding Victor are confident and firm, they move with just the right rhythm, and beneath him Yuuri trembles and pushes his hips upwards to drive Victor wild. Victor moans abundantly and if they keep up what’s blooming between them Victor will not be able to hold himself together for long. However, he refuses to let the opportunity of seeing this confident and aroused and _beautiful_ Yuuri come fully undone literally slip through fingers. 

Pressing his knees into the mattress he closes his hand around Yuuri’s where it is gripping them both and Yuuri’s hips stutter, his back arches. The sight makes Victor wish he could do everything at once - touch Yuuri everywhere, stroke him towards completion, kiss him and hold him - but the sensory overload that manifests itself between his legs and the tightness in his abdomen and groin tells him he will not have time for all of this now. His body races towards orgasm and there is only so much he can do to make Yuuri finish first.

So, with a groan he bats Yuuri’s hand away and focuses all his concentration on taking over and tilting Yuuri towards the edge to gloriously shove him over. Letting his thumb circle around the head of Yuuri’s cock he smears the pre-ejaculate down his shaft and onto his own before he leans forward and kisses him, hard. The air between them is so hot that there is a slight sheen of perspiration atop Yuuri’s upper lip, and licking it off Victor intensifies his ministrations in Yuuri’s lap, whose hands have started a skittish rhythm across his back. Suddenly pressing blunt fingernails into Victor’s shoulders Yuuri moans abundantly and comes between them, hot liquid coating Victor’s hand and belly - and before his very eyes the shameless dancer unfolds, back arched lasciviously and Victor’s name a cry on his lips.

Like this Yuuri is delicious, utterly stunning, and the mark Victor has sucked into his neck shines in the dark. It’s the moment Victor ceases to curb his own desire and follows his lover down, lips kissed raw and throat dry. 

He comes back into his own head to a gentle hand stroking his hair and pushing his bangs out of his sweaty forehead. His shoulders feel tender where they have held all his weight and they must have given out at some point because he’s lying on top of Yuuri, his head cradled into the space just below his ear. Victor draws a deep breath and immediately the enticing scent of sweat and sex, of lemonade and sandal wood makes his head spin.

It takes a while until he can breathe again. On his back upwards to his hair Yuuri’s fingers draw lazy patterns while the heart that’s pounding beneath Victor’s shoulder finally slows down into calm, measured thuds. They are sweaty and sticky and while Victor loves the feeling of being pressed to Yuuri’s warm and lean body, the cooling liquid between them makes lying together on the futon increasingly uncomfortable. Yuuri doesn’t complain, though, and his fingers continue their lazy circles as if they have all the time in the world, until Victor finally finds it in him to shift. Reaching out a hand he grasps the first garment he finds. It turns out to be his boxer brief, and he moves up on his hands and knees to make room between them and swipe them down. Yuuri shivers beneath him but watches him attentively and how he cleans them both only to collapse back onto the mattress the moment he is finally done. Then they move together again and Victor’s arms cradle the lax body by his side while his brain tries to catch up with what has happened between them in the last half hour.

“What did you mean when you said I was something else, Yuuri?” he enquires after a while and so as not to startle Yuuri or trigger him into any kind of post-orgasmic stress kneads his fingers lovingly into the flesh of Yuuri’s arm.

The fingers circling his skin stutter for a moment before they come to lie flat on his back and warm-chocolate eyes lock with his. 

“Well, I…” Yuuri says, voice thick and raspy and Victor thinks that his throat isn’t the only dry one. “I was just surprised…” Yuuri continues. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

Well, that makes two of them, doesn’t it?

“How did I surprise you?”

“Well,” Yuuri trails off, suddenly shy again, and Victor bemoans the fact that the body beneath him is shifting and moving out from under his. 

“I didn’t think…” Yuuri stutters, ”you would… Well, I didn’t think you’d be serious about me… Not like this…” Now that Yuuri has started to speak the words tumble out of him and suddenly everything makes just a bid more sense. 

“When I asked you to be my coach at the banquet I was at my absolute worst, I was desperate. And drunk, I was so drunk,” Yuuri says and there is an urgency behind his words that transfers itself to Victor. “I just… I didn’t think you’d actually come, I thought you’d just see me as a loser with a massive idol crush.”

“Yuuri, you’re not a loser and I’ve never thought that,” Victor surges to say. “But wait, you remember the banquet? You really do?”

Yuuri’s silence speaks for itself and a moment later he nods in agreement. “I do…”

Victor leans up on his elbow to get a better look at Yuuri who is sitting next to him now, bashfulness back in place. “Then why didn’t you tell?” Victor presses on, the frustration of the past months coursing through his body once again. “You propositioned me, you danced with me and yet you never called. Why did you never call me?”

Yuuri shrugs helplessly. “I didn’t think you were seriously considering coaching me. Most of the evening at the banquet is still lost to me. But what I do remember is you giving me that weird look and then someone took me back to my room, and when I woke up alone I just wanted to disappear. I thought it was just a lark when you showed up in Hasetsu. I thought you were here to taunt me further. Me and how I failed at the Grand Prix Final and how I humiliated myself in front of you at the banquet.”

“Yuuri, you pole dance-competed with Chris and won, you danced with me, you were so utterly captivating and everyone in the whole room wanted you,” he says. “ _I_ wanted you.”

“You did?” Yuuri’s eyes are huge again and the look of utter surprise is actually a tiny bit offending. 

“Of course I did,” Victor emphasises and sits up as well. They are not touching anymore but in this moment Victor doesn’t care. Not when there is a revelation that can clear anything. So he barrels on. “And then I came here and you were so very different from when I first saw you that night but it didn’t matter because you are so very talented and suddenly I had fun again skating… I haven’t had fun skating in _years_.”

“Me neither,” Yuuri confesses to Victor’s utter surprise and lowers his head. “I wanted to skate on the same ice as you, I wanted to win the gold against you and show the world I was good enough but I couldn’t keep my nerves in check. I failed and I never thought you’d be so…”

“So what?” Victor urges when Yuuri doesn’t finish his sentence and his hand grabs Yuuri’s shoulders. Brown eyes widen in alarm and Victor reins himself in. The last thing they need now is another panic attack when finally, _finally_ puzzle pieces are falling into line.

“So…” Yuuri tries and in the dark Victor can see his eyes glaze over and become shiny. “So… different. Warm… and good. Like there are two sides of you, two sides that form the same coin. I adored you as a skater but as a man you are even more… I…” 

Choking Yuuri’s eyes spill over and Victor wonders whether it is in desperation or anger. Briefly, he tries to get his head around what else there is that Yuuri obviously cannot say but pressuring him now will never get him the answers he craves. However, this should be about Yuuri, and now that he is finally revealing his secrets Victor hasn’t got the heart to urge him on. Yuuri will tell him, he always does, but it will be in his own time.

Upon seeing Yuuri cry Victor’s body reacts before his mind can catch up with what is happening and his hand reaches out and gently swipes the tears off Yuuri’s tacky cheeks. 

“Yuuri, shhhh,” Victor tries to comfort him and the panic in Yuuri’s eyes gradually vanishes and doesn’t take over. When it feels safe again Victor slowly reaches out both hands and gently cups his face. “Don’t cry,” he tells the other man, and heaving a great sob Yuuri stills and Victor can feel him force down the rising panic and desperation. 

“I never thought we could… be like this… I’ve wanted it so much since you came here, even more than I’ve wanted it at the banquet. I’ve wanted to be with you,” Yuuri whispers a moment later and sniffs again. “But I thought you’d leave the moment it gets inconvenient, I thought…” He trails off again and immediately Victor shakes his head.

“I could never leave you, Лапочка, not after what I’ve of you here in Hasetsu,” he says. “Never! I will stay by your side at the rink when you qualify for the Grand Prix Final, I will make you skate the program again and again until it’s perfect, I will watch and cheer when you learn the jumps, I will drag you through the kiss and cry, and once you win the gold and they hang it around your neck I want to be there and kiss the medal,” he adds and then smiles because suddenly everything about his own lack of enthusiasm, about the 40-odd years that are hanging like the sword of Damocles over his head doesn’t look so bleak anymore, and the next words are just so, so logical. 

“And I want to skate with you… I really do.”

The moment Victor says the words he knows they are true. He _does_ want to skate with Yuuri and he wants everyone to see it. Because with Yuuri on the ice everything has meaning, everything has worth and beauty and it feels like once he _does_ skate with him, maybe he will finally be able to leave all the disappointment behind and reconcile the brilliant skater Victor Nikiforov, the living legend, with Victor, the ordinary guy who struggles just like everybody else does to get it all right and proper. 

To be happy.

He hears Yuuri sniff again and as he sees him shakily wipe away the tears Victor cannot help himself anymore. He leans forward and engulfs Yuuri in a tight embrace. 

“I promised I’d never take my eyes off of you, Yuuri, and if you let me that’s what I’ll do. I’ll take you to St. Petersburg and make you dance the Казачок, you’ll not get rid of me if I have any say in this. So promise me you’ll try, will you? Promise you’ll try and win me a gold medal I can kiss?”

The way Yuuri closes his arms around him and he hunkers down into the embrace, fingers pressed into Victor’s back and shoulders, conveys the answer before Yuuri’s voice does.

“I will,” Yuuri says into the space behind Victor’s ear. “And then we’ll eat Pork Cutlet Bowl,” he adds and both their chest heave with a relieved laugh that sounds just a tiny bit like a sob. 

“I promise you.”

*** 

It turns out to surprisingly easy to be the strict and relentless coach _in_ the rink and the devoted lover _outside_ of it. 

On the ice Yuuri works hard, probably harder than Victor has ever seen him work before. There is a passion, a fire inside of him that gets him going, and even though Yuuri had confided in Victor that it has been quite a while since he’d last had fun on the ice, it is increasingly clear that _now_ he has. 

During a collective walk on the beach the day after they have finally come together they have discussed the individual parts of the program again and what they want to do about the free skate program they have so far neglected in mutual silence. While Yuuri has once told him he’d leave all the decisions about music, style and arrangement to his coach, Victor is adamant now about running ideas through together. Yuuri proves to be surprisingly creative, making Victor smile and wonder why he hasn’t insisted on joint works and pondering idea together before. Yuuri is still shy - and even their night together and everything that night entails obviously hasn’t changed that - but whenever Victor sets him up with two options for how for example a step sequence could be designed and executed, Yuuri argues passionately for his favourite. 

Most of the respective parts of the program that aren’t jumps Yuuri has already perfected and every time he skates them in front of him, Victor thinks that, even though their respective movements are essentially the same, Yuuri is able to translate every step, every twist and every expression into his very own presentation, and the more Victor sees their combined performance unfold, the more certain he is that they are indeed designing something uniquely beautiful and stunning. Something that will make Yuuri shine and pave his way towards the podium, and, for just a moment, Victor allows himself to be insanely proud before he calls to Yuuri to do the Ina Bauer again and try and bend his head back just a little bit more so it’s a layback.

The first to see them kiss is Yuuko, and her delighted squealing and the way her eyes turn wide and shiny makes Yuuri blush a deep red and Victor smile smugly. Yuuri had been doing the warm up while, from the side line of the rink, Victor had decided to grant them an extra minute of precious boyfriend-time. It’s not as if coach-time isn’t also precious but Victor is giddy and in love, and even though he’s kissed Yuuri for hours the night before, it certainly doesn’t feel like it’s been enough. 

Finally seeing for himself that the sweet blush he can conjure up in Yuuri’s face when he compliments him, kisses him out of the blue or is generally sweet on him and shows it, actually encompasses not only his face and throat, but extends down towards half his pectorals. Victor silently resolves to make it his secret mission to find out if he can coax the blush into reaching Yuuri’s naval, but he’s yet to accomplish that. 

After all, they’ve only come together a few days ago, and while Victor cannot wait to do all the things he’s dreamed about doing with Yuuri, take him to St. Petersburg and show him is own home, he knows he shouldn’t overtax Yuuri. Their professional collaboration is to remain in prime focus and Yuuri is only just learning what it means to have an actual emotional support who totally understands both his love for skating and equilibrium. And so Victor intends to take his time and let Yuuri comfortably settle into the circumstance of being boyfriends as well as coach and student.

Now, however, Victor knows he’s sort of pathetic and needy but he just cannot help himself as he skates over to where Yuuri lazily pirouettes across the rink and pulls him flush against his chest. 

“Oh,” Yuuri exclaims and holds Victor tight as their momentum spins them further across the ice. “I didn’t know you wanted to do the warm up with me.”

“Yes, the warm up,” Victor confirms teasingly, dropping his voice into the lowest register he can possibly manage. Then he leans forward and presses their lips together. Yuuri opens his mouth readily, needily clutching at Victor’s shoulders and neck, and just as Victor thinks they may as well prolong the boyfriend-time today and move themselves somewhere less cold and more horizontal, a high squeal tears at the air around the rink. 

“Oh my god,” Yuuko gasps from outside of the rink where she’s come out of the changing rooms and covers her mouth with both her hands, eyes huge pools of glassy tears. Yuuri jolts in Victor’s arms, but holding onto him turns beet red in the face. It’s a surprisingly lovely contrast to the purple Victor has just kissed his lips into, and when they both turn to look at her, Yuuko practically windmills her arms at them. “No, please, don’t let me interrupt you,” she squeaks, delighted, and hurries out of the rink towards the reception area; undoubtedly to tell her husband exactly what she has witnessed just now.

For a moment both of them look towards the door she’s vanished through before Victor turns to look at Yuuri. Even his ears are sporting a deep red and Victor scrutinizes his lover closely, feeling tense all of a sudden. They haven’t talked stipulations yet so Victor finds himself awkwardly looking for confirmation that all this is indeed…

“It’s okay, Victor, I am sorry,” Yuuri hurries to assure him when their eyes lock again, and all of a sudden he seems frantic. “I want everybody to see, I will not hide what you are to me, I was just… she startled me.”

Victor smiles softly and instantly Yuuri relaxes. “I know, Лапочка,” he says and kisses Yuuri’s nose. “Don’t worry about me, I want whatever it is you want. Now,” he subjoins and pushes himself away from Yuuri to skate backwards and effectively take the temptation to continue acting unprofessional and resume their kissing out of the equation. “I have a plan for teaching you the jumps.”

*** 

It turns out that ‘Dirty Dancing’ isn’t the right choice to distract Yuuri from overthinking his approach to the more complicated jumps. The moment Victor switches on the player and lets the music flood the rink Yuuri giggles and blushes prettily, fidgeting where he stands on the ice, and then it’s all just a highly emotional tangle between them were they skate and pirouette and kiss and grope. Heeding what Yuuri has told him about how he’s learned the quad toe loop from Phitchit Chulanont they’ve retreated to the ice castle after dark and have only switched on the barest of lights. 

When the first song is playing Victor skates out to meet Yuuri in the middle of the rink but instead of getting ready to approach the first jump Yuuri grabs for him, pulls him into his arms and kisses him, and Victor can only lean into the embrace and kiss back abundantly. Soon they are lazily circling each other on the ice, all keyed up and in love, and during the second song their resolve tips over into heavy longing, fire and attraction, and Victor pulls Yuuri off the ice to lie him down on the first bench at the bleachers they reach, kneel over him and undress him hurriedly to refresh the mark on his clavicle. 

It’s insanely impulsive and romantic and hot, the way the vast and empty rink around them is shrouded in shadows, and when Victor goes down on him, Yuuri whimpers before he lets go and loudly moans Victor’s name. At Yu-topia they have shared the bed every night, both to sleep and not sleep, and while they haven’t told anyone of the major shift that has taken place between them, they are not exactly subtle, and Victor is sure everybody has already cottoned on. 

Yuuri seems to be fine with it, though he blushes frequently, especially when his sister sees them holding hands at the breakfast table and sharing chaste pecks over cereal bowls with Maccachin bouncing around them. 

There is one thing, though, that Victor prefers over their quiet nights on either his futon or Yuuri’s bed, where they touch each other languorously after their days at either the rink or the gym and where they learn about their preferences and how nice it is to just hold the other and fall asleep together. At Yu-topia they cannot really let go and be desperately passionate about each other in bed, because while the paper partitions and wooden doors and walls _do_ shield them from prying eyes, they do little to also shield them from attentive ears. 

However, here at the ice castle in the dead of night there is no one to disturb, no one to listen, and soon they are taking full advantage of their remote surroundings. Afterwards Yuuri’s face contorts with guilt at having side-tracked Victor and not progressing to finally beginning to learn the jumps, but Victor only smiles mischievously, wipes a rogue hand over his mouth and helps him pull up his trousers where they have come tangled into his skates.

“If I remember correctly it was me who pulled you off the ice and made you produce those sweet sounds, Yuuri,” he says, and Yuuri blushes so hard it’s downright enticing. Victor has to get back onto the ice again and literally cool his heels, so he doesn’t go at him again. 

*** 

In the end it’s a Japanese rock band called Dir en Grey along with their mutual stubbornness that does the trick. It’s actually Mari who comes up with the idea at their breakfast table where Yuuri stares into his cereals and Victor impatiently scrolls through the music application of his laptop. 

They’ve tried classical music, but Bach doesn’t work half as well with Yuuri as it does with Victor, and both agree that Mozart, while truly the music of a genius, is too well used in figure skating anyway and thus too well known to get truly distracted. They’ve advanced to pop music but Yuuri doesn’t know what’s in the international charts right now and so the music doesn’t really get to him enough to be more than background noise, no matter how much they turn up the volume. They’ve decided to not try House or Reggae because both aren’t exactly partial to the first and downright despise the latter. 

As the days go by Victor gets more and more frustrated while Yuuri gets quiet. It feels so much like these two weeks after the festival that Victor, despite himself, finds it actually hard to come up with the energy to make Yuuri laugh and take it easy. Last night they’ve spent their first night apart since they’ve come together a little over a week ago because Yuuri couldn’t sleep and must have left at some point during the wee hours. Victor had woken up alone, feeling lost and lacking.

It’s really grating on the nerves but Victor just refuses to give up. Cautioning himself countless time to not loose his head and give into frustration like he’s done so many times with Yuuri, thus deteriorating the progress they have already made, Victor reminds himself that, if Yuuri had been able to learn one jump, he can learn another. If he can skate like a god once, he can do it again. They just have to unlock the skill. They are feeling way more comfortable around each other now and Yuuri is a very emotional skater whose equilibrium greatly affects the way he skates. Since the day on the ice when Yuuri has asked him not to leave and Victor has confirmed he wouldn’t, they’ve steadily grown in their professional collaboration as well as their personal relationship, and it’s not only Yuuri who has become more stalwart and secure with that knowledge.

And all this is something Victor wouldn’t give back for the world. Since they’ve had their major fallout at the festival, Victor knows that coaching Yuuri is the challenge he’d needed without actually knowing he did, and rising to it, coaxing Yuuri to grow and prosper and shine feels just like the most exciting thing he’s done in years. It also feels like a major shift in his own personality, because he’s always been his own man and responsible for no one else but himself and his own career - and thus, according to Yakov, quite full of himself with all the gold he’s won since his junior debut - and while he still is confident by nature in his abilities on the ice, it’s surprisingly fulfilling to care for someone beside himself. For someone he wants to protect and support in whatever way he can. 

Victor has mulled over the fact whether that character treat has always been a part of him and he’s just been too blind to see it, or whether his love for Yuuri has either revealed it and brought it to the surface or evoked it within him in the first place. In any case, Victor is sure that what they do has reason, has meaning; both on the professional front as well as on the personal, and while it’s nice to see such potential, such skill on the ice unfold because _he_ is the one coaxing it out, it feels even more satisfying and life-changing - and is quite the cherry on top - that they can adorn their professional collaboration with the love they clearly harbour for each other. 

Well, Victor contemplates for a moment, they haven’t said it out loud yet, but it’s not important to do so because Victor doesn’t actually think it is the thing to do to unlock Yuuri’s talents. Every time they hold each other, every time they kiss or skate or smile at each other it’s there, in plain sight for everyone to see. Briefly, Victor wonders exactly when Yuuri has realised it for the first time but that’s something Victor will ask some day but not now. Now he’s confident that it’s there even though they haven’t shaped it into words yet.

The time to say will come, of that Victor is sure, but the time isn’t now and, secretly, Victor is afraid saying it to Yuuri would only put even more pressure onto the other man.

Victor has told Yuuri he’s also confident in his decision to stay and dedicate all his time and considerable talent to their program, because he believe in Yuuri and his skills and potential on the ice, and he’ll be damned if two of the best skaters in the world won’t be able to crack this problem.

So, at breakfast, he boots up his laptop and browses through both his own music files and Spotify to come up with a new strike of inspiration.

“Try this.”

Surprised, Victor looks up to find Mari hovering before him and pushing a CD into his hand. “Maybe that’s what you’re looking for,” she says in this calm, unfazed way of hers, and when Victor only blinks stupidly, she rolls her eyes. “It helps me clear my head, perhaps it will help with his as well.” Then she and Maccachin saunter off for a walk, the poodle happily bounding around her and urging her on, and Victor is dumbstruck and thinks that they don’t really have anything to lose, so what.

Yuuri is skittish again on the ice that night but this time it’s not nerves, it’s devastation. Out of the corners of his eyes Victor watches him lace his skates and resolves that, if they don’t find a solution soon, Yuuri might just crack. There is an air of finality around them where they tie their skates in the changing rooms and Victor wonders why it’s today and whether they really are out of time as it is. 

Chancing a glance over to where Yuuri is slowly getting into his skates and smoothing his trouser down over his legs, Victor once again curses his lack of experience in being a coach and thus being able to effortlessly soothe the raw edges of Yuuri’s self-esteem. He grips the CD Mari has handed him tighter in his hands and decides that, if this doesn’t work, something else will. 

After all, it is only June and the national championships of Chugoku, Shikou and Kyushu Yuuri needs to skate at to have a go at qualifying for the Grand Prix Series won’t start before September.

They skate together in silence for a while and Victor is anxious to leave Yuuri’s side. For some reason this feels like the day to make or break them. They have been training together for two months now and while Yuuri seems more confident than ever, he’s obviously afraid of really not having it in him to do it.

Which is utter nonsense, Victor knows, and affectionately bumps into him into their fifths round around the rink and smiles appeasingly.

“Let’s try, Yuuri, are you ready? I’ll show you the Salchow and then you’ll do it.”

When Yuuri doesn’t answer immediately, Victor grips his hand and spins him around so they are facing each other. “Think about the Pork Cutlet Bowl, Лапочка, you’re not having any until you win me a gold medal,” he teases and winks at Yuuri, and for some reason it seems to do the trick. Yuuri faintly smiles, face pale and warm-chocolate eyes wide, and squares his shoulders.

“Okay, Victor, show me.”

*** 

Somehow it works like magic, and Victor cannot decide what has surprised him more during the last two months in Japan: Truly falling for Yuuri, having Yuuri fall for him or seeing the look on Yuuri’s face when the first cords of a hard rock song hit the rink.

There was no indication on the CD about what to expect, just a blank space where the name of the band or the title of the album should have been. Mari must have copied it for them and in hindsight that was probably what sold it for Yuuri. There had been no way at all to have at least a notion about what to expect, and while Yuuri might have known his sister’s taste in music from when they’ve lived together, the way a frisson jolts through him at the first beat of the song makes it clear that it’s a total surprise. 

Victor had Yuuri do a few baser jumps first instead of diving straight into the matter of hand; mostly triples until he’s coaxed him into doing a quad toe loop, the one of the more complicated jumps they have so far been able to have Yuuri execute and land. He’s done it in the past two months and has ingrained it into muscle memory so he’s actually quite comfortable with it now. Afterwards Victor had shown him the quad Salchow a few times and had explained to him again what to keep in mind and what to especially pay heed to. Then he had ordered Yuuri onto one side of the rink, so he is able to properly gain speed before the jump. 

When Yuuri’s face turned even paler Victor has told him to turn around before he’s hugged him close from behind. The way their bodies have slotted together, Victor’s front to Yuuri’s back, had calmed Yuuri, and when Victor had let go there had been a rosy flush on Yuuri’s cheeks. 

Victor had skated over to tend to the music box, and to say he’s nervous feels like the understatement of the year.

“Alright, you can do it, Yuuri, don’t overthink it,” Victor is telling him now, voice loud and calm so Yuuri can hear it over the distance but without being startled. “Just jump.”

Across the rink Yuuri squares his shoulders again and nods convulsively, before he pushes himself into motion with the pick at the tip of his right skate. He’s quickly gaining speed, his face pursed into determination and a trace of anger.

When he is halfway across the rink and it looks like nothing can stop him, Victor pushes the button that brings the music box to life.

The beat of the first song practically explodes around the empty rink, bass, guitar and drums a sheer clutter of noise and sound that immediately drowns out all of Victor thoughts and drags them under water. He is startled beyond compare and flinches, nearly dropping the remote control in his hands. Hard rock has never been for him and he’d go as far as to say he despises it because it makes him feel overwhelmed and slightly off kilter. He knows people listen to this type of music to have their head blasted off and their thoughts blown away into the wind. On the contrary Victor prefers to have a logical system he can follow along to lose himself in the music. With hard rock, though, an angry guitar chasing rogue drums, screeching vocals and a fast paced bass it’s actually scary and uncomfortable to be so little in control. So he rather indulges in classic and the occasional pop song.

However, what applies to him obviously doesn’t apply to Yuuri, and as Victor focuses on the other man again, he grips the remote in his hand just a little tighter.

Across the rink Yuuri is skating forcefully, gearing up into position at just the right speed. He’s surprisingly, oddly calm, just the look in his eyes gives away how much the music seems to have startled him.

And then it all goes exceedingly fast. 

Victor is holding his breath as Yuuri dips down into the knees, body the epitome of tension, poise and determination before his legs push up into a spin and Yuuri jumps. 

It feels as if the world screeches to a stand-still, and mesmerized Victor shakes himself into counting the rotations. Yuuri is airborne for just a fraction of time, his body strung tight like a bowstring, arms pulled towards his chest and black hair flying before gravity reaches out to get a hold on him again. 

Reaching the top of a classic arch Yuuri’s body sinks down towards the ice… and touching his skates onto the mirror-like surface he lands the quad Salchow.

Victor doesn’t realise how his hands fly to his mouth. Yuuri’s legs wobble precariously in the second following the landing, but he doesn’t fall. He doesn’t slow down either and while Victor can only stare and try to bully his brain into catching up with what’s happening right in front of him, Yuuri’s momentum carries him the remaining distance over to where the barriers are reining in the ice rink, and with a clatter of limbs and skates and speed Yuuri crashes into it. His hands are able to intuitively grab the railing but his legs are giving out a moment later and he slumps down onto the ice.

“Yuuri!” Victor hears himself yelling and a moment later he’s finally able to bully his body from frozen shock into motion and skate over to where Yuuri sits on the ice, face pale, and turned half away from Victor.

“Yuuri, you did it!” 

Reaching the other man across the rink he falls down to his knees in front of him. Yuuri’s chest is heaving laboriously but he’s obviously not having a panic attack. Victor feels his breath leave his lungs in a puff of relief.

“Yuuri, you did it,” he repeats in case the other hasn’t heard him the first time but then Yuuri turns around, and where his eyes were pools of fright and tension before, now they radiate a fierce but somehow very exhausted joy.

“I just…” Yuuri stutters, and realising he still has the remote in his hands, Victor turns off the music with an impatient flick of his fingers.

“…jumped,” Yuuri finishes and Victor finds himself nodding vigorously.

They are staring at each other and just as Victor thinks there must be something to say to Yuuri, to praise him, console or encourage him, Yuuri snaps out of his self-insight… and starts giggling.

For a breathless moment it’s the only sound on the ice and where it glimmers in the neon lights they have switched on earlier. Then Victor notices he’s giggling as well and the moment spins and spins and spins around them, promisingly sweet again and filled with an anticipation that makes Victor’s limbs tingle.

“Yuuri, you’ve done it,” he lamely says another time but before he can curse himself for not coming up with something remotely cleverer, Yuuri’s hands reach out and grip his elbows.

“Let’s do it again, Victor. Quick, come on,” Yuuri orders, steel in his eyes and impatience and just the right amount of competitiveness colouring his voice as he hurls Victor to his feet. “Switch on the music again.”

*** 

It’s three in the morning and there is soft pre-dawn light gleaming through the top windows above the ice rink when Yuuri leans over and rests his hand on his knees. His face is drenched in sweat, his cheeks flushed, his hair a damp mess from when he has pushed it out of his forehead so many times.  
Victor is leaning on the barrier next to him, breathing hard and secretly hoping that Yuuri’s ears are hurting just as much as his are doing at the moment.

The last four hours had felt both like the most gruelling and the most exciting since he’s taken himself off into a tiny coastal town at the end of the world to coach Yuuri Katsuki, who has been utterly on fire tonight. Victor doesn’t know what exactly has happened but it’s clear that something must have snapped, must have slotted into place within the other man, because from the moment Yuuri had pulled Victor from where they have been crouching on the ice after executing the first successful quad Salchow, he is unstoppable and grants Victor with a series of party wobbly jumps that sometimes lack the final rotation but neither manage to cow him or make him loose balance and crash down onto the ice.

Yuuri is in a fugue the whole time, and Victor oscillate between skating out and stopping him from his near-manic approach at the jumps and just letting him burn all his energy and hope he doesn’t hurt himself. In fact, it feels a bit as if Yuuri is under the impression, the fear that if he stops doing the quad Salchow now and leaves the ice, he will lose the ability to do it again. So he keeps on skating around the rink and gearing up to hurl his body across the ice keeps on doing jump after jump after jump until even the impressive combination of stamina and stubbornness cannot keep up with his determination anymore. 

And through all the hours the music had blasted around them, had drowned them in its overwhelming noise and complexity, the screeching vocals, relentless drums and chasing guitar hammering inside Victor’s head. More than a few times Victor had been close to suggest to switch it off and order Yuuri to do the quad Salchow without but Yuuri had been in a kind of trance the whole time and Victor didn’t want to snap him out of his state of losing himself.

So it comes with a certain kind of surprise as Yuuri turns to him now and says, “Let me do it just one more time, but in silence.”

Victor nods and switches the music box to mute. The silence engulfing the rink is practically pulsating around them in the wake of the hard rock music, and Victor watches Yuuri lift his hands to his ears. He’s still breathing hard but the pallor his face has sported just a few hours ago when they had started has been drenched from him. Exertion has formed a beautiful flush onto his cheeks, and seeing Yuuri stand proud and strong before him makes Victor want to reach out, gather him in his arms and wallow in both love and pride.

So for the last time tonight Yuuri skates out onto the ice and just like that something complex changes in the air around him. With the loss of the bone-shattering music his eyes have also lost the steely sheen they’d shone with during their practise session, and as Yuuri glances back towards Victor where he stands at the barrier of the rink Victor is bathing in a gaze of warm chocolate again. 

They nod towards each other and Yuuri squares his shoulders, before he pushes himself off with the pick at the front of his right skate. Victor finds he’s holding his breath but whatever has happened within Yuuri in the past hours hasn’t left him with the distraction and changed setting the music has provided. 

Yuuri’s execution is graceful, his arms tugged towards his chest, his strong body a tight bowstring, utterly in control, and when he lands there is just the barest of wobble in his legs. Exhausted Yuuri lazily skates over to him again, a tired smile in his face.

“God, I’m really knackered,” he says and a puff of relieved breath leaves his lungs. His body is mellow and when they step off the ice Yuuri’s knees buckle precariously. Victor grabs him around the elbow to steady him and together they move towards the changing rooms where Yuuri basically crashes onto the benches, a dazed expression on his face. 

It seems as if Yuuri doesn’t have the energy left to move after sitting down, and so Victor crouches down in front of him and starts untangling the laces of his skates. For a moment he is working in silence, the only sound around them their own laboured breathing. As he lifts Yuuri’s foot to pull off the skate he feels Yuuri shift a bit. Then he is leaning forward and whispers, “Do you really think this could be worthy of a gold medal?”

His voice is surprisingly cautious and hushed, as if Yuuri is afraid to break the spell the past hours have cast around them. Abruptly there is tension in his body again where it looms over Victor.

“Yuuri,” Victor answers, and reaching up his arms encompasses the other man’s face with gentle yet firm hands. “ _You_ are gold.”

The smile Yuuri’s face pulls into is soft and beautiful. 

“Victor,” he says and his voice cracks. For a moment Victor waits with bated breath for Yuuri to start crying, but even though his eyes shine with moisture they don’t spill over. 

“Thank you.”

Then Yuuri sinks forwards and pulls Victor into his arms, and the way he holds him tight, there on the bench in the shrouded shadows of Hasetsu ice castle at half past three in the morning, and doesn’t let go makes Victor think that Yuuri doesn’t deserve to be the only one outwardly thankful here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this chapter title belongs to the one before and the song, my dears, the song is just so cool.
> 
> God, parts of this chapter were a real pest to write, especially the panic attack scene. I had it all worked out in my head, it was actually the idea that started this story. But when it came to actually writing it down, holy s**t, did it give me a hard time. I had to start and re-write it more than once. Fortunately, after pulling at my hair for days, I am really happy how it has panned out now.
> 
> Вот блин - Vot blin, a Russian curse word for Russians who don’t really curse, literally means ‘pancake’ and is quite harmless and very common, in any case I’d like to think Victor is not one for cursing and so this is what he comes up with when he’s not properly monitoring what he’s saying


	5. Epilogue

The train station at Hasetsu is busy when Yuuri and Victor step through the turnstile that separates the waiting hall from the interregional tracks. Commuters are hustling to and fro, salary men with their briefcases and convenience food, construction workers, a kindergarten class with bright yellow caps on their heads, supposedly just starting a joyous day trip. Trains that pull into the station only to leave a minute later. Hasetsu may be a small town but its people certainly know how to fill the day with activity. By his side Maccachin is exited but the poodle must already have cottoned on to the fact that they are about to board a train and leave, so he always comes back after a few moments to rub his nose into either his own or Yuuri’s legs. 

The September sun in the south of Japan is very warm, the air around them moist and heavy with the noise of cicadas and the smell of car exhaust, cookshops and the sizzling heat that is jamming to the tarmac below their feet. 

A few meters off Yuuko and her husband Takeshi are waiting for them on the track, both wearing exited smiles on their faces. Only a little further Minako, a scowl on her ever-sour features and crossing her arms in front of her is regarding them along with Yuuri’s sister Mari as they manoeuvre through the people on their track and approach the little party. 

“Ready for kicking ass?” Takeshi asks Yuuri with a wink as they haul their luggage to a stand-still beside their friends, and Yuuri adjusts the tissue mask that’s covering the lower half of his face. Before he can answer, though, Yuuko shifts and batting her husband’s shoulder, says, “And you’re seriously wondering why the girls already know that kind of vocabulary?” Her whole frame is bristling with indignation and that more than anything else tells Victor that, despite her summer dress, messy bun, comfy shoes and easy smile that make her the very picture of leisure she is incredibly nervous on their behalf about the local championship Victor and Yuuri are about to travel to to make their way through the ranks towards the assignments of the Grand Prix Series. It’s touching how she doesn’t want to show it. Again Victor is insanely grateful for their continuous support and the way all their lives revolve around Yuuri and his equilibrium on the ice. 

In the past three months Yuuri has managed to put a lot of his initial anxiety onto a backseat of his mind and properly learn and perfect the quad Salchow. He’s grown to be less of a mess when it comes to the more complicated jumps, and even though there had been hard and frustrating days where Yuuri has fallen repeatedly and let his courage fail him, Victor has seen him prosper so much. 

Taking the jumps out into broad daylight had been a major step, one that had Yuuri anxious and skittish for days, and so it had come with no surprise that he’d flubbed the first few attempts he’d done. His face had paled again, body language closed off and yet radiating a raw exposure that had Victor slightly worried again. But then Yuuri’s very own competitiveness had kicked in, and with a determined frown on his face he’d thrown himself into the breach and skated his heart out, repeating the quad Salchow over and over until he could pull it off effortlessly. 

Seeing the relieved smile on his face after he’d successfully landed it for the first time had been one of Victor’s proudest moments as a coach, and the kiss he’d placed on Yuuri’s forehead in the changing rooms afterwards had both Yuuri’s smile and the gleam in his warm-chocolate eyes flare even brighter.

However, there is still a long way to go and it is by no means certain whether Yuuri is able to pull himself together and drown out the nerves that wreck him every time something doesn’t go according to plan or someone unexpectedly walks in on them during their practise. So it remains to be seen how all their training and all the work they’ve done so far will pan out. But Victor isn’t too worried about the effort they are making. Yuuri has done wonders on the ice in the past five months since Victor came to Japan to coach him, and so Victor is certain that Yuuri will continue to surprise them. The Championship of Chugoku, Shikoku and Kyushu there are traveling to today will be the first step to take, the first occasion to prove how they are working as a team and the first opportunity for Yuuri to prove himself. Victor is totally exited to see that happen. It’s actually quite a good thing for Yuuri and his confidence to have to start from scratch again and work his way up through the ranks towards the Grand Prix Series, and Victor actually isn’t too fazed about how he will be doing. 

After all, Yuuri is strong and is continuously growing stronger every day. They’ve already moved mountains and keep on motivating each other to do better, be calmer and more aware, and no matter how full of himself Victor has unconsciously been before he came to Japan, being with Yuuri and training at Hasetsu ice castle, quarrelling over step sequences, fusing the individual details of both the routines for the Short and Free programs, progressing, failing and getting up to try again has definitely been his wake-up call. He may still be 27, a positively ancient skater at the peak of his carrier - not exactly by choice but because there simply isn’t anywhere left to climb to with all his gold medals and the two World Records tugged under his belt - but in Japan he’s learned that there is so much he still wants to do, so much that is worth going on, so much he isn’t ready yet to give up, and actually no real and immediate pressure on him to make a decision now and decide what to do with the 40-odd years that is the rest of his life. His may be one of the oldest skaters in the world but his body is still holding up. Moreover he’s found a challenge that excites him and he is finally having fun on the ice again.

It was Yuuri who has taught him that, and for this Victor is ever grateful.

So he can be content for now being Yuuri’s coach, taking the season off and seeing how it all pans out. Who knows, maybe Yuuri wins the gold medal he’s dreamed about. After all, he certainly has the required skill set, grace and determination, and the programs they’ve created absolutely cater to Yuuri’s every need and advantage. And then, after Yuuri will have let Victor make good on his promise and kiss the gold they will see about further options. It’s baby steps again for them now but Victor is more excited than he’s been in years, the ice a place he wants to spend his time at again, if only as a coach for now. 

And isn’t that reason, drive and answer enough of how much he himself has grown and progressed?

He’s phoned Yakov repeatedly over the past three months, and at first the older man had yelled at him because it had taken Victor so much time to call in the first place. 

“Already tired of playing coach, Vitya?” he’d greeted him, but when Victor had told him he wasn’t playing Yakov had grumpily shut up and listened. He’d still yelled at him at the end of their first call, but Victor hadn’t been too concerned. After all, he’s lived with Yakov most of his life and the older man had never been able to hide both his fondness for Victor and his drive to continuously make him do better.

Next to him Yuuri shifts and turns to look at him, and where his eyes have been dulled by a nervous flicker before, they are now filled with a soft light as he takes in Victor’s stalwart form. “The train is about to leave, Victor,” he says and hoists his luggage up a bit towards the door of the train in front of them. Victor blinks because he hasn’t even noticed it pull into the station, as immersed in his thoughts as he had been. 

Smiling, even though the mask is covering most of his face, and with a fond look in his warm-chocolate eyes Yuuri is breath-taking, and in his chest Victor’s heart clenches tightly. He’s never expected to find someone who worships the ice as much as he does, someone whose very soul is ingrained into the ice below his feet, and yet in his heart has so much space for Victor to comfortably tug himself into every little spot, every curve, every cell - and thrive. Coaching Yuuri has taught him so much about his own potential and has shown him a world he’d never known existed. He’s probably still full of himself up to a certain extend and that will never change, but caring for someone else, taking responsibility and be reliable is something that has undoubtedly made him grow as a person, and now he’s eager to show the world what Yuuri Katsuki as a skater and Victor Nikiforov as a coach can achieve together.

Yuuri pushes his luggage into the train and then bends to tend to Victor’s. It appears he’s already hugged his friends good-bye and has received a last round of encouraging words. If the look on Yuuko’s face is anything to go by it must have been quite the battle cry Yuuri has received and for a moment Victor mourns the fact that he’s been too deep inside his head to notice. 

At his feet Maccachin gives an offended bark, and Victor quickly crouches down next to his beloved dog. “Be a good boy, Maccachin,” he instructs and fondly ruffles soft and fuzzy poodle ears. “And don’t let Mari stuff you with too many treats.”

At his words Mari gives a soft snort, and Victor smiles. Of course, this order will be given in vain but Victor is happy to be able to give his best friend in the world into the care of someone who is clearly very much enamoured with the poodle. There had never been a time he’s been able to lavish so much attention over such a long time on Maccachin, and Victor is grateful he’s had the opportunity. Mari is the perfect person to leave Maccachin with, as she’s lavishing him as well.

As Yuuri stores Victor’s luggage into the train and sets it next to his own, Takeshi reaches out a hand, and taken aback, Victor lifts his and gets it squashed by Takeshi’s broader palm. Next is Yuuko and since they have skated together so many months ago it’s easy to see how fond of him she is. Most of her feelings towards him in the beginning may have been tainted by a massive idol crush but in the five months he’s spend at their ice castle both she and Takeshi have considerably warmed to him as the person behind the legend. Victor is actually quite proud of how much Yuuri’s friends seem to like him. 

Yuuko engulfs him in an awkward but stormy hug and flushes deeply when he hugs her back. She flushes even more when he lifts his mouth to her ear and whispers, “I’ll take good care of him, Yuuko.”

Minako is next but she just pats his arm, her attention on Yuuri again, who has retreated inside the door, so the train won’t just leave without Victor. Next to her Mari is leisurely patting Maccachin and pays him no heed.

Then the send-off is done and just as Victor turns to board the train, Yuuri extends a hand to him, palm up and an excited light in his warm-chocolate eyes.

“Come on, Victor, you don’t want to miss all the fun.”

In front of the train on the station of a tiny coastal town at the end of the word Victor regards Yuuri and how his face is hidden behind the tissue mask, so he doesn’t catch a cold so close to his first Championship. However, above the seams of that mask his eyes are shining brightly, making Victor pause and look.

Not everything between them is perfect. Yuuri still slinks off to the ballet studio or the rink at night when he’s working something out for himself and cannot deal with Victor’s attention. Victor still has a hard time reining in his frustration when Yuuri doesn’t confide in him right away, and one day not too far from now he will have to make a decision about what to do with his life after his skating career is finally over. But if everything works out according to Victor’s wishes him and Yuuri will make it together. Until then they are trying, really trying, and every mountain they move, every step they take and every time they skate makes them do just a bit better. They are two sides of the same coin now that they have decided to throw in their respective lot with the other, and for that Victor is infinitely thankful.

However, Yuuri is a quick study and in the months past has learned how to suppress and work around his nerves and self-consciousness so they impede him less. Moreover, he has pushed this initial lack of self-awareness onto the perephery of their personal relationship, and Victor is actually stunned how Yuuri has learned to pose, to hold his body and cock one eyebrow so Victor will absolutely drop everything and be at his command. It’s a powerful weapon, this eyebrow of his and Victor loves it when Yuuri entertains it to get Victor flustered and all his. He is still shy, mind, but also energetic, loving and lovely, excited and exciting, and in bed at night he pulls Victor in with and easy sensuality Victor hasn’t expected. He knew Yuuri was hot and sexy but he’s quite surprised _how_ hot he actually is and how much Victor enjoys to follow him and see where it all leads them. Even if some nights they just end up holding each other tight before they fall asleep.

It doesn’t have to be perfect if it makes you happy, Victor finds himself thinking, and stepping forward he takes Yuuri’s hand, lifts it up to his mouth, and pressing his lips to the knuckles tries to pour all his excitement, all his gratitude and devotion into this kiss. Yuuri’s eyes dance in the half-shadows by the door, and when the signal resounds for everybody to get ready to leave, Yuuri grabs Victor’s hand just a little tighter and pulls him into the train.

 

The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes: Oh my god, I’ve had heaps of fun with this story. I’ve always wondered what would have happened hadn’t Yurio followed Victor to Japan and when Kisa told me she's started a story about what happened at the banquet I got so super-jealous I decided to give it a go.
> 
>  **Kisa** , my dearest, you've inspired this, so it is yours and I am so happy you like it.
> 
> To all of you who have followed Yuuri and Victor through this story, I just want to thank you for bearing with me. I was actually debating whether I wanted to post the chapters in weekly updates, one chapter per week but then at dinner I decided, to hell with weekly updates, I can do all this now.
> 
> Well, famous last words, as I've said before this is my first foray into the fandom and I actually just decided to try my hand and see what happens and boom, it's the longest thing I've ever written.


End file.
